BWoS: The Lost Chapters
by RexDragosaurus
Summary: Ever wondered how Jack's melodramatic wedding proposal sounded? Or why Nova and Apollonir were laughing? Or how Rebecca first met Phyra and his gang? Well, you're about to find the answers to these and a lot of other questions in this collection of one-shots centering around the "Bakugan: The War of Starsector" cast.
1. What We're Looking For

**Chapter One – What We're Looking For**

_Vachel_

"You do realise that I'm going to have to notify the authorities?" the young man said, eyeing me carefully, measuredly. He didn't look more than seventeen to my eyes, but there was something about the way he carried himself, something in his cold blue eyes, half-hidden though they were by his wild black hair, that conveyed to me a sense of his true age. He was, one way or another, older than he looked. He'd seen and done more than his years belied, perhaps more than was good for him. I cannot say how I managed to pick this up from his cool, calm deportment, or his studiously blank expression, or his low, mellifluous voice. It was just the vibe of the thing. As I mulled these and other, lesser reflections over in my head, he spoke again. "Well?" he inquired. "Cat got your tongue?"

"I don't have a cat, sir," I answered quietly, the slightest sliver of a smile making its way onto my face. "It might be my ferret, though."

He didn't laugh at my little joke. On the contrary, his eyes narrowed, and he looked as though he'd been eating scat for the past hour or so under the impression that it was chocolate pudding, and had only just realised his mistake. "So, you have the effrontery to jest in such a dire situation as this, eh, Vachel?" he questioned leaning dangerously closer to me. "You're not worried about the fact that I could ruin you? I don't think that's the wisest of attitudes, you know. It would _never _do for a popular, commendable lordling like you to be found nicking valuable feather dusters from my personal collection, now, would it?" His eyes flicked momentarily over the _prima facie _bundle of dusters I was holding.

"I wasn't trying to be impudent," I demurred, making a vague obeisance in his general direction. "I was just trying to lighten the mood."

"The mood does not require lightening." he snapped, taking a step closer towards me. I was poised to defend myself should he get violent, but I hoped things wouldn't come to that. I have never really enjoyed fighting. "Now..." he said, "I'll tell you what I'm going to do, Vachel—"

"How do you know who I am?" I interrupted suddenly. "We've never met before."

He sneered, and declined to answer. "Never mind that. Just listen." said he. "I've got a proposition for you. You see, I am currently undertaking a project of sorts for my employers, and I find myself a little understaffed. So here's my offer: you work for me, and we'll forget all about this little occurrence. What do you say?" He stared hard at me.

"Sounds possible," I said cautiously. "But what would I be doing, exactly?"

He smiled fiendishly, but again didn't reply. "I'll be seeing you around, Vachel." he said pointedly, showing me to the door. "Oh, and I'll be wanting those dusters back."

"Aren't you going to tell me more about this job of yours?" I asked, handing him the dusters.

"I'll drop you a note or something." was all he said, closing the door.

"But I don't even know your name." I protested through the keyhole.

Slowly, the door opened again, and the young man gave me a peculiar grin. "Call me Kyros." he said simply.

* * *

A few weeks after the incident, I was only slightly surprised to find Kyros arriving on my doorstep. My parents were luckily out at some convention or other, so I didn't have to worry about them finding out about our little arrangement. It was hard enough for them to keep my kleptomania hidden from the public eye without having to deal with my getting involved in potentially shady businesses because of my thieving.

"So," I said, once I'd brought Kyros into my room and shut the door. "Are you going to let me know what you need doing yet?"

"I suppose so," Kyros yawned, seeming unusually uninterested in his own business. Though then again, people generally prefer worrying about other people's businesses to worrying about their own.

"Well?" I asked gravely. "I'm all agog with anticipation."

"So I gathered." Kyros replied coldly, slouching back on my sofa and lacing his fingers together behind his head. "Look here, can I bring in a couple of my associates? I require a bit of moral support while I deliver my brief explanation of evil proportions."

"Pardon?" I inquired.

"Never mind." Kyros sighed. "The point is, I need to summon in my coterie. Does this inconvenience you at all?"

"I imagine not." I replied.

"Excellent." he smiled. "Might I prevail upon you, then, to open the door?" I gave him a flat look, then did as he bid, thinking that there was no point in continuing a fight with a man whose feather dusters I'd been caught trying to steal. Outside the door I found two boys, perhaps a year younger than me, standing there with a mildly truculent air. The first of them was big, buff and blonde, and had an easy, laid-back sort of attitude to match the broad, lazy grin on his face. The second, by stark comparison, was small, skinny, nervous and uptight, with mousy brown hair and a sombre, almost doleful expression.

"Hello." I said tersely. "Your boss wishes for you to come in."

"Sure he does," the blonde boy said carelessly, plucking a pansy from a nearby pot and chewing absently on it while his companion stared at him. "Why else would he have brought us?"

"I'm sure I don't know—and would you kindly stop eating my mother's pansies?" I requested distractedly. "You're not a cow, you know."

"Sure I'm not." the boy said ever so pleasantly, absently depositing the masticated remains of the pansy in his pocket. "If anyone's the cow here, it's you."

"I beg your pardon?" I queried sharply. "I hope you know who you're talking to, sir."

"Aye," said the boy, disregarding his shorter counterpart's attempts to hurry the proceedings along a bit. "I'm talking to Vachel Claymore, son of Lord Francis Claymore and Lady Daphne Claymore. And anyone with a bit of experience in the area will tell you that the name Vachel means _small cow_. _Quod erat demonstrandum_."

"Thank you." I said drily. "Do come in."

"Cheers, mate." the boy grinned, pushing past me and leading the way to my room (just _how _he knew the interior planning of my house was beyond me), followed closely by his companion.

I tagged along, somewhat ungraciously, and the four of us were soon sitting around in my room, staring at each other. At length, tiring of the silence and surrealism of the state of affairs, I spoke up. "Are you going to tell me what I need to do yet?" I inquired.

"No, I'm going to throw a chocolate bar at you." Kyros answered immediately. At first I thought he was being sarcastic, but then I felt something hard and wrapped in foil bounce off my forehead and land on the floor with a soft crinkling noise.

"What did you do that for?" I demanded, rubbing my forehead.

"You were starting to annoy me," Kyros said calmly. "And I happened to have a chocolate bar in my pocket." He turned to the blonde boy. "Benjamin, can I trouble you to fetch that back for me?" The boy, apparently named Benjamin, grinned and retrieved the chocolate bar from the evil clutches of my fluffy yellow carpet, before passing it to Kyros. Kyros accepted it, unwrapped it slowly and began to eat it. When he'd finally finished, he ventured to continue. "Now then," said he, "I expect you're very much wondering what sort of work I have in mind for you..."

"No kidding." I muttered, causing Kyros to give me a sharp glance.

"Look, will you _stop _ruining my cue?" he snapped.

"Sorry," I murmured, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Pray continue."

"I shall." Kyros said icily, drawing himself up for his recital. "Now, it's really quite simple. I'm looking for a certain valuable object, and I need a small team of dedicated young people—at this stage, between the ages of fourteen and eighteen—to help me look for it. I'm certain that the first and best place to look is the Bakugan Brawler Squad, based up in the Central Octagon. It's—"

"I know what the Bakugan Brawler Squad is," I interrupted. "My father once suggested that I enrol."

"Well, it appears you're going to have to take his suggestion, then." Kyros smiled. "Because that's where we need to go."

"What are you looking for?" I asked warily.

"I'm afraid I can't actually tell you that until you've decided to help me." Kyros said, somewhat pointedly. "Not that I think you have much choice, but still. Formalities must be made, contracts signed, oaths taken, that sort of thing. It's all rather a bore, but this _is _a very important task, after all."

"Before I give you a definite answer," I said carefully, "I'd like to know just one other thing. How many people do you have working for you, and how did they come into your service? I cannot believe that they were _all _after your dusters."

"That's so," Kyros admitted. "But regretfully, that sort of arrangement is kept within the strictest of confidences."

"I just want to be sure," I said firmly, "of the characters of those who are to be my...affiliates, I suppose you'd say."

"If you say so." Kyros sighed. "Well, there's not a lot to talk about, really. I have three young people such as yourself, and am about to recruit a fourth. Benjamin here has joined my cause in return for the body-building course I bought him." Benjamin grinned sheepishly at these words, and muttered something about girls. "Nicholas joined," Kyros went on, "after I threatened to ruin his mother's business. Rianna, my third and absent employee, is highly addicted to an obscure brand of health-destroying chocolate which I supply for her. And my soon-to-be fourth team member, one Rebecca Fletcher, will be manipulated into working for me with threats involving the abduction and possible execution of her father." Kyros shrugged. "I have a few other, less important, more mature workers up at my palladium, of course, mostly people whom I contracted via various business agreements and general nastiness. But they're none of them very important." He smiled again. "So, that about sums it up. What do you say to joining the team?"

I stared at him, and I could have sworn a shiver ran down my spine. But it turned out to be my pet ferret, Bob. "I say," I said at last, "that you seem a horrible sort of character, Kyros, and I'd rather face trial by scandal than work for you and your group of nutters."

A very unpleasant expression appeared on Kyros' face at this statement. Abruptly, he stood and exited the room, beckoning his so-called coterie as he did. I followed the three of them and saw them out the door. I was on the verge of going back inside, when Kyros turned and addressed me curtly. "Don't think I'll hesitate to subject you and your family to disgrace over those dusters, Vachel," he said, voice plagued with quiet menace. "And you needn't worry about my project, either. We _will _find what we're looking for. And then you'll all pay for your injustice to my employers." With that he was gone, leaving me standing on the threshold with mixed feelings of confusion and ominous foreboding.


	2. Little Did I Know

**Chapter Two – Little Did I Know**

_Phyra_

I trudged wearily along the dusty, deserted road, carried by feet which wouldn't stop aching due to constant contact with the ground during my perpetual plodding. A passer-by might have thought it odd for a fourteen-year-old boy with immensely spunky hair to be walking down the highway that led to the Bakugan Brawler Squad facilities, but there were no such passers-by, and so I went on, unheeded and unnoticed. So it had been for about fifteen minutes, as there was no one to aid me on my journey to my destination, no one to relieve the drudgery I was going through.

A few hours ago, I'd informed my former mentor, Jet Calforth, that I aspired to be a soldier. "Well, Phyra," he'd said, "considering that I was gearing up to casually turf you out of my house, I'd say you've hit upon a great idea. Good luck with making it to the Central Octagon from here."

"What?" I'd asked.

"Just kidding." he'd said with a brief laugh, before turning serious. "Now, on a more sober note, Phyra, you know as well as I do that your legal guardian, Major Minor, is in—"

"Intensive care for his rare toenail disease, I know," I'd said impatiently. "So what of it?"

"My point is," Jet had explained patiently, "that even though he's incapacitated and unable to assist you personally at the moment, he's _still _your guardian, and I can't act on his behalf. I can't get you into the army, and I can't pay your tuition—even if I _had _the money, which I don't."

"That doesn't matter," I'd replied, unfazed. "You know I inherited everything in my parents' will."

"True, but you can't do anything with the money unless Major Minor gives his permission."

"I've already got it." I'd said calmly, pulling a paper out of my pocket. "In writing. I went to visit him the other week." Jet had blinked stupidly for a minute in his surprise at how far ahead I'd planned, and then asked me where I'd stay. "No need to worry about that," I'd answered cheerfully. "The Bakugan Brawler Squad may be a school of sorts, but it takes boarders all year round, providing they can pay—and I can, thanks to Mum's winning the lottery when I was four."

"Oh, that's nice." he'd said. "Well, have you contacted the squadmasters at all yet?"

"I have," I'd returned, before snickering. "Whoever came up with that ridiculous rank, anyway? It's not of the army."

"To my knowledge," Jet had said vaguely, "the first ever squadmaster was a private, an eccentric old curmudgeon who considered his army rank too _lewd_. His superiors refused to promote him, so he invented his own: squadmaster. After that, the others all pretty much stuck to the rank out of respect for tradition. Anyway, enough of _that_, what did they say?"

"It's not time for admissions yet," I'd answered, "but my father's name apparently still holds some credit. They're willing to let me take the entrance exam. If I pass, I'll get in. The better I do, the lower my tuition. Pretty simple, really."

"I hope you're up to it." Jet had sighed.

"I am." I'd said easily. "So, there you have it. I'm already packed, and the taxi's waiting. Catch you later." With that, I'd left. And here I was now, walking up the road to the BBS buildings. My amazing golden porcupine-do had apparently so infuriated the bald taxi driver, enlightening his car with its gracious presence, that I'd at last been kicked out and forced to walk the rest of the way. It was goading, but the hope that I'd be accepted into the BBS kept me going, as did the knowledge that if I succeeded in my endeavour, I'd have the wherewithal at last to realise the dream I'd formed three years ago, and gratify the desires I kept hidden deep down inside me. I'd become powerful enough that no Sektarus would ever hurt me and mine again. I'd show the dark-dwellers who was boss, and I'd ensure the king's reach over our lands stayed strong, and our nation stayed safe.

And so even while the sun bore down on me, and sweat dripped down my face in sheets, and my stamina ebbed gradually away, I pressed onwards.

* * *

"So." said Squadmaster Xaen, looking seriously at me over the office desk. "You're General Vyander's son, eh?"

"I am, sir." I replied staidly, though inside I felt the old jolt of insecurity at hearing my father spoken of so casually.

"I suppose I really didn't need to ask." Xaen said wryly. "You're the spitting image of him, though I suppose he looked a little older. And more intelligent. And handsomer. And his hair was smarter. And—"

"Your compliments are much appreciated, sir." I said acidly. "However, I'd have thought it a fruitless exercise to try comparing us when I'm the only one still living."

Xaen didn't rise to this, though he fixed me with an odd sort of expression. He didn't say anything more on the subject, either, and instead turned to other matters. "You've done well in the written exam, young man," he said gravely. "However, there is one last trial for you to take: the practical test." I perked up visibly at these words. Certainly, it was a test, but I'd been dying to see some real Bakugan action for a long time now. A practical exam would be a welcome break from filling in lines and checking boxes.

Squadmaster Xaen led me into an adjoining room, filled with a number of shelves which were full of small metal cases. Xaen took two of these boxes down and opened them before handing them to me. The first contained five closed Bakugan, each with a small placard that showed their name and G-Power: Subterra Cybertallion with 480G, Haos Ravenoid with 320G, Darkus Mantris with 340G. Aquos Centipoid with 380G, and Ventus Limulus with 410G. The second contained a number of Gates and Ability cards. "Make up a team to battle with." he said shortly. "Think carefully before you do."

I glanced at the Bakugan in the case, shuffled through the cards, then looked back up at the Squadmaster. "If I am to fight someone with what I choose, who is my opponent to be?" I queried.

Xaen raised an eyebrow. "Is it your place to ask?" he returned.

"They say caution is a virtue." I replied blithely, flashing him a smile which was carefully calculated to be charming, but annoying.

Squadmaster Xaen regarded me with a vaguely thoughtful air, as though appraising me properly for the first time. Then he returned the smile. "Alright," he said. "Let's make this a little more interesting. Bring the boxes and follow me."

I did as I was bid, and we presently made our way into the big practise arena. No one was about, and the place seemed so big, empty and foreboding that my breath was quite taken away. I was directed to take a BakuPod from a nearby bench, and I did so. As I looked on, Xaen then pulled a Gate Card out of his pocket and bid me take one from the box at random. We held them up and opened the Bakugan Field—me ensuring first on Xaen's orders that I had the boxes with me.

The squadmaster threw out his Gate Card, saying curtly, "Gate Card—Set!", and then brought a Bakugan out from another pocket. "Bakugan Brawl!" he continued, tossing this Bakugan onto the Gate. I watched intently as up rose a Haos Juggernoid with 450G-Power. "The test has begun." Xaen addressed me clearly. "I may have any number of Ability cards in my pocket. You are to choose but one Bakugan, one Gate and one Ability from those boxes, and then make a move. You must attempt to bring down my Bakugan with yours."

I looked shrewdly at Squadmaster Xaen for a moment, then shrugged and began to examine the cards I had to work with. _Perhaps I should choose the Subterra Cybertallion. _I thought slowly. _It has a higher G-Power than his Bakugan. I can throw it onto his card, then use Hammer of Stone to cancel his Gate effect if need be... But no, he's probably expecting that. He'll be bound to use Spinning Ricochet and nullify my Ability. So who should I pick?_

I ran my gaze over the meagre supply of cards again, then considered the Bakugan in the box. _I know. _I chose the Darkus Mantris. Then I picked out an Ability and a Gate and faced Squadmaster Xaen with all confidence I could muster shown in my bearing.

"Gate Card—Set!" I yelled, sending my Gate flying over to land behind Xaen's with the unerring aim of a born natural with astoundingly marvellous hair. Then I grasped Mantris tightly and checked carefully to ensure I knew what I was doing. _Don't land on his Gate. It may block enemy Abilities. _"Bakugan Brawl!" I said, and flicked Mantris beyond Xaen, beyond Xaen's Gate, to land on mine. "Ability—Activate!" I continued. "Marionette!" Mantris reared up and shot a burst of flashing purple ropes out at Juggernoid, who was dragged over to meet the dark, predatory insect. It was 340Gs to 450Gs, in Xaen's favour. "Gate Card—Open!" I commanded before the Squadmaster could do anything. "Narrow Gap!"

Squadmaster Xaen's brow, which had been furrowed in confusion until now, relaxed as he gave a wry smile. "Ah." was all he said, knowing full-well that Narrow Gap prevented Bakugan with over 350G-Power from playing Abilities, and knocked their Power Level down by half. Accordingly, Juggernoid's Gs sank to 225, and Mantris knocked the enormous tortoise to the ground with ease.

The Field vanished, and I was left standing in front of Squadmaster Xaen, who had a big smile on his face. "Well done, Vyander." he said quietly. "You've passed—and with flying colours. You are accepted into the Bakugan Brawler Squad. I'll present your results to the other Squadmasters, and your tuition will be fixed then. I'll send someone for you when we're ready. Now, however, you'll be needing some bits and pieces to start off with. Do you know what Attribute you want to work with?"

"Two, actually," I said, with more certainty than I'd known I'd had prior to being asked. "Darkus and Subterra."

Xaen raised an eyebrow at this statement, but didn't comment. Instead he poked his head out the hall that led out of the arena and called to a passing cadet. "Hi, Archer!" he hailed. "Archer, come here a moment, would you?" The cadet nodded and approached us. He was shorter than me, with a tousled mop of brown hair that almost obscured his bright blue eyes completely. He wore the uniform of a Haos Brawler, and as he grinned briefly at me, I noted that he was wearing dark blue goggles and bright green combat boots. "This is Cadet Vyander," Squadmaster Xaen informed Archer. "He'll need to see Daenguard and collect a uniform and some equipment."

Archer nodded, and motioned for me to follow him. I complied at once, falling easily into step beside him while we headed out the door and down a series of winding corridors. "So," he said. "You here on special business?"

"In a manner of speaking," I said with a small smile, before deftly switching subject. "Archer wouldn't be your first name, would it?"

He laughed. "Oh, good lord, no." he said good-naturedly. "I'm Jack. It's a matter of course for the masters to call us by our surnames, as you can see."

"Indeed," I chuckled. "Well, I'm Phyra."

"Pleased to meet you." Jack said affably. "Ah, here we are." He pointed me towards a door, through which I entered and met Squadmaster Daenguard, an average sort of man. Average height, average looks, average temperament.

"Hello, there," he greeted me mildly. "I heard you were coming over. Passed your exam, then?" I nodded, uncertain how to handle the subject. "The Attribute you'll be using?" he questioned further.

"Darkus and Subterra." I answered.

"A dual-Attribute Brawler?" Daenguard said, surprised. "We don't get many of those. Good luck with it." He turned and went over to a large stack of crates, out of which he pulled a uniform, a BakuPod and Bakugan clip. These he then handed to me, before hunting through the pile again and finding a number of Darkus and Subterra Bakugan for me to examine. "Take a squiz at these," he said. "See if there are any you fancy training with for a bit."

I accepted the Bakugan and scrutinised them carefully. There was a Subterra Cycloid, Darkus Horrorclaw, Darkus Monarus, Subterra Manion, Darkus Falconeer, Subterra Wormquake, and another Darkus I didn't recognise. After some deliberation, I selected the Horrorclaw and the Manion, and put them in my clip. Then I picked up the unknown Darkus and showed it to Daenguard. "What's this one?" I asked.

"That," Daenguard said, "is a Darkus Siege."

"I've not heard of those before," I commented.

"They're not too common." the Squadmaster replied evenly. "Do you like it?"

"I think so," I said thoughtfully. "Or at any rate, I'll know soon. I think I'll give him a try and see how we fare together."

Daenguard nodded. "We don't have a great many Sieges about the place, Vyander." he said, a queer, almost jocular tone seeping into his voice. "So mind you look after him."

"I will." I promised cheerily.

Little did I know I'd just made a promise I wouldn't keep.


	3. Of Doom and Gloom

**Chapter Three – Of Doom and Gloom**

_Apollonir_

Laughter sounded around the valley.

"That's a good one, Apollonir," Novaakii gasped, tears of mirth streaming down his face. "Now let me tell you one: why did the chicken cross the road?"

I thought hard. And harder. And harder. No answer to this baffling question presented itself. "I don't know," I said at last. "Why _did _the chicken cross the road?"

"To get to the other side!" Novaakii roared, laughing uncontrollably.

I stopped and thought about this answer. And then a smile appeared on my face. I began to chuckle. "That's funny, Novaakii." I grinned. "But now we ought to get on..."

"True, true," Novaakii sighed, as we spread our wings and moved further away from the clearing. "So, how's life?"

"Boring," I groaned. "Absolutely boring."

Novaakii shot a sly glance at me. "If I'd dare to gainsay you," he said shrewdly, "I'd mention, very succinctly, three words: Kensington. Ventus Space."

I chuckled, a wash of fond recollections coming back to me at this statement. "To be honest with you, I seldom think back to those times, Novaakii, fun though they might have been." I said by way of reply. "A lot was said and done back then that I don't really regret, but then again, there were _some _things I do regret, and a _lot _of things that _other _people regret. When all's said and done, I tend to just leave the subject alone. You'd be wise to do the same, I think."

"What a ridiculous notion!" Novaakii cried with a flourish. "Do you _really_ think I'd suppress my curiosity like that, leave it festering down in the pit of my stomach—or wherever the hell one keeps one's curiosity? Would I let this topic become stagnated due to wordy neglect? Never!"

"Really, you can be perfectly absurd sometimes," I scoffed derisively at this eloquence. But I was starting to warm to the theme. "Then again, I suppose there's nothing I can say about my time in Ventus Space that will alarm _you_, Novaakii. And it certainly won't bother _me_. Perhaps, just between the two of us, this is a safe subject." I did a thoughtful loop-the-loop while I considered the matter, flaring out my eight wings to their utmost limit.

"What a show-off." I thought I heard Novaakii mutter from below me.

"You're just jealous, my great-great-great-great-insert-several-more-greats -here-grandson." I said grandly, swooping down upon him and causing him to veer sharply to the side. "Now then. Ventus Space...

"Well, I suppose there's not a lot to say, really. I went there in particular simply because it was right next door, and I thought I'd be more likely to have something in common with creatures who generally fly about a lot as opposed to the Subterra Bakugan, who are statistically more likely to be ground-dwellers. So there I went, disguised of course as you know, because I was bored. I also wanted to be able to mingle with people on an informal level, though of course, _this _soon got out of hand.

"I could see that the Bakugan of Ventus Space were unhappy. They'd been that way pretty much since the War—and having that pompous arse Gyllvinae (for he was _far _worse in those days than he was the last time we saw him) in charge wasn't helping matters in the least. So I decided to cheer them up.

"I began to preach messages of doom and gloom wherever I went. I thought that an interesting way of telling those silly buggers to buck up might be to tell them that the end of the world was coming, and that they might as well enjoy life while they could. That didn't work too well, though, so I tried doing naked break-dancing in the streets. That didn't help either. Next I started to play the bagpipes, but by this time Gyllvinae had well and truly decided that I was mad, and I was thrown out of Ventus Space.

"I could, of course, have let them know then and there who I was, but I thought instead that I'd go with the flow and check out Darkus Space for a bit. I'd heard the Bakugan over there were pretty cool. They kind of were, too, apart from when those blasted phantoms invaded the joint—but of course, you _know _that story all too well, so I'll leave it at that."

Nova whistled in admiration. "That's a very interesting story," he said, once we'd landed.

"It is," I agreed, before winking at him. "But not, I think, as interesting as _your _story, Novaakii, which I think may be drawing to a thrilling close even now."

"You think so?" Novaakii asked softly.

"I do." I answered. "Only it won't without _my _help. Come, I'd better teach you this technique now, or you'll never get out of here. Open your mouth, and try to imagine that you are a small, hard peanut in a jar..."


	4. Or So I Thought

**Chapter Four – So I Thought**

_Rebecca_

"Who are you?" I asked the boy on the doorstep. It was just another day in Ornimont Bay, and I'd been sitting on the old couch in the lounge, making a futile attempt at reading a book while dinner cooked in the oven and trying desperately to avoid thinking back to the issue of my missing father, which plagued me with anxiety whenever I allowed it to pervade my mind. A neighbour came occasionally around to check on me, and I'd heard once or twice from Dad's superiors up in Reim, but other than that, I was completely alone. It had come as rather a surprise, therefore, when a knock had sounded at the door, and when I'd arrived, I'd found this odd young man awaiting me. He seemed so easy, so familiar with me, though I was certain I'd never set eyes on him before. I didn't know what to make of the situation at all.

"Allow me to introduce myself," said he, stepping smoothly across the threshold. "My name is Kyros, and I've come to ask you if you'd like a job."

"Er, this really isn't the best time..." I murmured in objection. "My father's, well, busy at the moment, and—"

"I am well aware of the circumstances regarding General Fletcher's disappearance, thank you." Kyros said coldly, settling down in my favourite chair without being asked.

"You are?" I inquired, slightly puzzled by this as the bizarre young man didn't look like an army official of any sort.

"I am." he repeated, a queer smile playing about his mouth. "In fact, I know more of the details concerning his MIA status than _you _do."

"Really?" I gasped, feeling myself sinking into another chair. "Can you tell me?"

"Oh, yes," said Kyros. "In fact, that's why I'm here."

"I thought you said you were here about a job."

"That too." Kyros said gleefully. "You see, the two are related. The fact of the matter is, I know about General Fletcher going missing, because I was responsible. And here's the deal," he added forcefully, seeing I was about to speak,"if you ever want to see Fletcher alive again, you'll come with me right now and help me out with this job of mine. Does this sound fair to you?"

I opened my mouth to protest, then shut it again. Kyros had me where he wanted me, and we both knew it. I nodded weakly, and so it was started.

* * *

A great many things happened to me that month, none of them very pleasant. Kyros introduced me to Nicholas, Rianna and Benjamin, his other desperadoes, and talked us through the plan. We were basically to enrol at the Bakugan Brawler Squad and try and get hold of as many Pyrus Ability cards as we could. It didn't sound like too tough a job, but still... Kyros hadn't told us what he wanted the cards _for_, and a sort of irrevocable sinister element seemed to hang over the task like a recent, unexpected death.

We'd all taken the exams, even though it wasn't strictly time for admissions. Kyros had apparently plied the squadmasters with certain rare and exotic confectionary delicacies bought, borrowed or thieved from Fate knows where, and they had mellowed considerably at his generosity. At least enough to give us all a trial, at any rate. Kyros and Nicholas had breezed through easily, Rianna had fared averagely, and Benjamin had barely scraped by.

I, on the other hand, failed. This was largely because I knew next to nothing about Bakugan, despite the fact that Father had worked with them for yonks. I'd had no idea what I was doing during the written test, and as for the practical examination—that had been an embarrassing fiasco. The squadmaster had used a Hornet Striker, and no matter how many times I told myself I was being stupid, I couldn't help being nervous around it. This, on top of my ignorance, led to my being mercilessly flogged, three to nothing. I was denied enrolment, to Kyros' infinite displeasure, and told to wait a while before trying again.

On Kyros' instructions, then, I spent the next few weeks studying hard, determined to do better next time. Thus it was, on this particular day, that I was ready to try again. "Make up a team for yourself," Squadmaster Kerrik directed me, at which I looked over the Bakugan I'd been given. I selected a Ventus Strikelash, Aquos Tigrerra and Haos El Condor, then chose a set of cards that would fit them. Neither I nor Kerrik would be using Fusion Abilities, but that wouldn't make much of a difference.

"Field—Open!" we said, and with those words, the battle began. "Gate Card—Set!" Two identical grey cards flew in opposite directions across the battlefield, landing and bursting into hues of orange and green.

"Bakugan Brawl!" Kerrik roared. "Stand, Subterra Warius!" His Bakugan sailed through the air and landed on his Gate Card in front of me, rising up into the form of a huge brown warrior. It had 400G-Power.

"Bakugan Brawl!" I replied, sending out a sphere of my own to meet Warius. "Stand, Aquos Tigrerra!" A snarling blue tiger morphed into being on Kerrik's Gate, and attacked Warius viciously without preamble. It had 420G-Power.

"Gate Card—Open!" Kerrik called, bending his forefinger a little. The Gate flashed orange again, revealing a normal type. Warius gained 150Gs.

"Ability—Activate!" I retorted. "Tides of Power!" A strong current roared through the Field, and the 150G-Power was transferred over to Tigrerra, who snarled and tore several nasty gashes down Warius's side.

As Warius screeched, Kerrik drew out another card. "Ability—Activate!" he shouted. "Fists of Stone!" Warius's hands turned into massive boulders, and with them he diverted the raging waters in another direction. The 150Gs went back to him, and Kerrik's Ability card added on another 100, so that the Power Levels were now 420 for me, and 650 for Kerrik. Warius bore down hard on Tigrerra, and rammed her off the card with his hefty, armoured shoulder. Tigrerra let out a harsh cry and was pulled back into ball form, and the Gate vanished as Warius returned to Kerrik, whose turn it now was again. "Bakugan Brawl!" he announced. "Stand, Subterra Tentaclear!" A dark, brown, many-tentacled eyeball appeared in the air above my Gate Card. It was intensely disturbing to look at, and had 380G-Power.

"Bakugan Brawl!" I returned. "Stand, Ventus Strikelash!" A vibrant green scorpion scuttled onto the Gate and screeched maniacally at Tentaclear, who, having no other way of communicating, blinked rapidly several times. Strikelash had 340G-Power, however, and so was at a disadvantage. For the moment. "Gate Card—Open!" I yelled. "Quartet Battle!" Haos El Condor was dragged from my clip to join the battle, as was Subterra Ravenoid, from Kerrik's. El Condor had 450Gs, and Ravenoid had 400, so it was 780 versus 790, in my favour.

"Ability—Activate!" Kerrik growled, as the four Bakugan charged wildly at each other. "Windswept Boulders! For each Ventus Bakugan at the battle, I can add one Subterra Bakugan to the battle." Subterra Warius shot over to crash the party, and I found myself in need of at least 400G-Power to win.

"Ability—Activate!" I countered. "Ultra Power Transfer!" A white light filtered through the Field, and 200G-Power was transferred from each of Kerrik's Bakugan to my Power Level, bringing me up to 1390, and him down to 180.

Kerrik just smiled grimly at this, however. "Ability—Activate!" he shouted. "Tremor Switch!" The ground beneath us rumbled, and the Power Levels were switched.

"Ability—Activate!" I returned. "Hurricane Shutdown!" A fierce gust of wind rushed past and all but knocked the opposing Bakugan off their feet. Kerrik's Ability card was cancelled, the Power Levels returned to their former amounts and all three Subterras were reduced to small spheres once again. I had done it at last.

* * *

After my successful brawl, I was admitted into the Squad and furnished with Bakugan, uniform and equipment. I was assigned to classes and shown to the room I'd be staying in, and then directed down to the mess hall for lunch. It was there that I spotted Kyros and the rest of the gang, sitting at one of the tables and wolfing down what looked to be toasted figs and mint pudding.

"Ah, you're finally in," Kyros muttered to me with a slight smirk, once I'd sat down next to Rianna.

"Yeah, sorry it took two tries, I just—" I started to apologise, but Kyros cut me off with an airy wave of his hand.

"It doesn't matter," he said thickly, through a mouthful of pudding. "Turns out I've an extra task that wants doing, and as you're newer here than us, you're perfectly placed for it."

"What?" I faltered.

Kyros gave me a look, swallowed with great deliberation, and then resumed his whispered briefing. "Look, you see those three cadets over there?" He pointed over to the other side of the mess, indicating a tall, red-haired girl, a blonde boy, and a shorter, brown-haired boy. All were eating unconcernedly, occasionally passing some remark or other in the direction of the waitress, who had rather a conspicuous figure, and was attracting a lot of lusty attention from the boys.

"I see them," I muttered. "What about them?"

"Their names are Phyra Vyander, Jack Archer and Kate Newbell," Kyros continued sternly. "We're not on good terms. Never mind why, but just listen. You're new here. You don't have any connection to us, so far as those three know. Anyone in your position would be wanting to find friends, so it shouldn't look too suspicious if you go and introduce yourself to those three."

"What are you saying, exactly?" I asked carefully, casting another glance at the three cadets.

"I want you to become associated with them, become mates with them," Kyros explained patiently. "And if need be, I want you to report their activities to me."

"Why?" I wondered, slightly discombobulated by this startling assignment.

"Simple," Kyros grinned. "I don't like them—especially Vyander. I want you to get yourself in his good books, so if I get the opportunity to pay him out for the general irritations he has given me, I'll have _you _there, ready to do my bidding and bring him down."

"That doesn't sound very sporting." I observed.

"Ah, but I am not a sporting person, Rebecca." Kyros said lazily. "I'd have thought you'd figured that out by this stage. Now, hop to it, before Vyander or his friends see us together."

I sighed, got up and headed off in the direction of the three cadets. I didn't like the sound of what Kyros was proposing, but then again, I didn't have a choice, so far as I saw. "Hello," I said, when I reached the table I'd been directed to. "Is this place taken?"

Phyra, the blonde boy, turned to me and gave me a smile which I found to be incredibly charming and ever so slightly annoying. "Absolutely not," he said invitingly. "Pull up a pew and make yourself at home."

"Thanks," I said, smiling in return.

"I haven't seen you around here before," Phyra continued, making an off-handed gesture with his fork. "What's your name?"

"Fletcher." I answered. "Rebecca Fletcher."

"Pleased to meet you," Phyra grinned. "This is Jack Archer and Kate Newbell."

"Delighted to make your acquaintance, m'lady." Jack smiled.

"Don't mind him," Kate chimed in. "He's completely bonkers, as everyone around here knows all too well—"

"You flatter me, madam," Jack rejoined calmly.

"Anyway, it's nice to see a new face now and then," Kate went on, ignoring him. "You just passed the exams?"

"Pretty much," I shrugged. "Dad—that is, my father, General Fletcher—is, er, away on business at the moment, so he sort of fixed things so I could come here for a while. Pretty disorienting, but I'll live."

"Don't worry, you'll do fine." Phyra said warmly.

"Thanks," I said honestly, managing in spite of myself to smile again. "I'm sure I will." But inside, I knew I wouldn't. Who could thrive in a busy, happy environment like this, when they were working for someone as vindictive and malicious as Kyros? No, such things were impossible. Or so I thought.


	5. My Sweet Angel

**Chapter Five – My Sweet Angel**

_Phyra_

"Sir...did you want to order something?" the waitress beside me murmured, looking rather bemused.

"No, thank you." I muttered from where I was crouching inside one of the rubbish bins towards the back of the restaurant. "I'm just looking."

"If you say so, sir." she sniffed, before flouncing away. After she had well and truly gone, I pulled my binoculars out of my pocket and put them to my eyes, observing a table near the window, at which sat Kate and a handsome young man in the uniform of an army lieutenant. I hadn't met him before, but I was certain that I knew his name: Lieutenant Valentine Bircham, one of Kate's many suitors.

Now, in those days, I seldom went so far as to spy on my friends, but I didn't much like the sound of Lieutenant Bircham, and I wanted to make sure his relationship with Kate was all aboveboard. The trouble was, of course, that Kate would never consent to my coming along to lunch with her and the worthy lieutenant, so I had to resort to the hole-and-corner method. Perhaps that wasn't such a bad thing, seeing as I had no particular wish to rub elbows with the likes of Valentine, but still... Hiding in the bin and watching the two of them sitting there, talking, eating and laughing together was not really my idea of a good time.

As I was mulling this over, I saw something out of the corner of my eye—er, lens—down the opposite end of the restaurant, beneath the foliage of a small potted plant. It was a bright flash, like that of a hard, smooth surface catching the sun's rays. I looked on, entranced, and the flash appeared again. At this point, it occurred to me that I might not be the only one spying in here.

"We're doing a special deal today, sir." the waitress came around again, making yet another attempt to part me from my money with exorbitant food prices. "Cook's speciality: chocolate chip sausages, only—"

"Look, I _told _you already, I'm not _here _to eat." I snapped, lowering the binoculars.

"Oh, pardon me for living, but I thought that's what you _did _in a restaurant." she replied spiritedly, glaring at me. "Now, if you'll kindly allow me to deposit some rubbish—"

"Can't you use one of the _other _bins?" I demanded in exasperation. "I mean, surely there _are _other bins in a place like this?"

"_I _want to use _this _one." the waitress snarled. "Now, get out, or I'll dump this lot all over your head." She held up a bucket of rancid halibut giblets. My thoughts flew quickly to what would become of my hair should it come into contact with the decomposing remains of ichthyomorphic organs, and I hurriedly stepped out of the bin—checking first to make sure Kate and Valentine were looking the other way, of course.

"I'll not be enlightening this place with my presence again," I said sharply, before casually relieving a passing gentleman of his fedora and trench-coat by means of superior dexterity picked up at various dodgy weapons handling classes.

"Suit yourself," the waitress said primly, before pursing her lips and poncing off in another direction.

I watched her go, then put on the hat and coat. Now I was virtually unrecognisable, save for a few of my luxuriant golden locks which poked out from beneath the fedora's brim. But most people are too mundane and uneducated in the ways of hair to recognise mine when it doesn't frame my stunningly handsome face, and so I was perfectly confident that no one around would spot me. I wasn't quite as confident that I'd be able to get the hat and coat back to their owner when I was done with them, but small sacrifices must be made on occasion for the greater good, and this, I reasoned, was one such occasion.

At length, I moved around the edge of the room and went to examine the potted plant. To my infinite surprise, whom should I find sitting awkwardly in the pot and clutching a small telescope, but Captain Trap Hackett.

"Good lord, man!" I whispered incredulously. "What on Starsector are _you _doing in there?"

"Watching _those two_," Hackett muttered, jabbing the telescope fiercely in the direction of Kate and Valentine's table. "They're on a date or something, I can feel it. I wanted to make sure that rotten Bircham doesn't usurp my position for Kate's favour."

"Position?" I echoed. "I'm sorry to tell you this, my dear fellow, but Kate plainly sees you to be a sleazy, greasy creep—which, no offence, you _are_. I'd say your _position_, as you so quaintly put it, is far from existence in this world so cruel."

"_You're _very fluent today," Hackett snapped in a most ill-bred fashion. "Perhaps it is jealousy which makes you so poetic. Lover's jealousy."

"Hogwash." I retorted deftly. "Kate and I are old friends, and I don't want to see her get saddled with some melon-head like Valentine, or everything will go quite _melon_-shaped, as 'twere."

"You mean pear-shaped, don't you?" Hackett corrected.

"Not under these circumstances, my good chap." I returned, glancing over at Kate and Valentine again. "Valentine is most definitely not a pear-head."

"Fine,_ be_ that way." Hackett huffed. "_I'm _going to go and break those two up, if you don't mind."

"I _do_ mind, actually." another voice issued from inside a crate of vegetables that stood just inside the door to the kitchens, which was right behind us. As one, Hackett and I swivelled around to see who was speaking, and imagine my astonishment when a head popped out of the crate, followed by shoulders, torso and arms. It was _Jack_, holding a pair of empty toilet rolls which had been taped together to make a pair of imitation binoculars.

"Jack?" I gasped. "What are _you _doing here?"

"I have come," Jack said elegantly, leaping out of the crate altogether and spilling vegetables everywhere, "to see if Kate was engaged to _that _dolt over there—" He pointed disdainfully at Valentine. "—and if not, to propose to her myself."

"Now, just hang about one sec, mate," Hackett began angrily, but Jack paid him no heed, and swept dramatically away. Meanwhile, the waitress who had been harassing me earlier now appeared, and was evidently about to make some snarky remark at me, but was happily prevented from doing so when she slipped on one of the vegetables and was precipitated ignominiously to the floor, breaking her collarbone when she collided with an especially knobbly turnip.

Hackett and I watched helplessly as Jack strode over to Kate and Valentine's table and geared up to speak. "How now?" he said in loud, violently impassioned tones. "Katelyn Newbell, I demand that you tell me whom this oafish ape is that you are currently conversing with, and what business the two of you have together in a place like this! Are you dating, or what?"

Kate didn't seem at all fazed by Jack's sudden appearance, but Valentine was quite obviously uncomfortable in the presence of an eighteen-year-old boy with blue goggles, hot pink cloak, navy blue tuxedo, orange spotted pantaloons and vivid green combat boots bedecked with macaroni chains and yellow carnations.

"No, Jack, we're not dating," Kate said calmly. "This is Lieutenant Bircham, and we _were _just practising our origami skills until you showed up and interrupted us." She held up a cunningly-folded paper sloth she'd been working on.

"Oh." said Jack, visibly deflating. "Seems rather an unusual place to be doing origami, doesn't it?"

"Nah, man," Valentine said vaguely. "There's just sort of this awe-inspiring cosmic _atmosphere _around this joint, y'know. I dunno exactly what it is, but it's just the _vibe _of the place, if you catch my drift. Does this quench your thirst for domestic knowledge?"

"It certainly does, my good man," Jack replied with dignity. "And now—" He turned to Kate, smiling. "—that leaves me with but one thing to say."

Kate looked at him. "Yes...?" she inquired pleasantly.

"Marry, my sweet angel," Jack cried, gracefully taking a knee, "my innermost feelings will be repressed no longer. I must confide in you or endure the storms rising inside my manly bosom, thriving within the turmoil that even now begins to besiege my sanity, my life! You must permit me to divulge upon you my great burden, for I can withhold it not a moment more. You must allow me to inform you how ardently I admire and love you.

"Mere words cannot express the passion I feel for you, any more than the seas of this world can quench the fires of the heavens. Mere poetry and prose cannot contain even a sliver of the feelings I hold towards you, any more than the moon can outshine the sun, or the grains of sand upon the shore can outnumber the stars in the sky.

"As the fertile soil doth love and depend upon the rain to put forth life, so do I love and depend upon you. As the weak-kneed carrot doth love and adore the snake-venomed ice cream, so do I love and adore you. As the wind cannot overturn a wall of stone, so the storms of your rebuff cannot topple the wall of my love, as the raging fire melts the glacier, so the fervent flames of my love must melt your icy resistance.

"As the llama said to the camel—Kate, oh _Kate! _Take pity on me, the poor wretch caught within the snare of his uncontrollable affections, grant me, I beg, the object I desire, and allow me to solicit the honour of your hand in holy matrimony. Wilt thou not answer me, your humble servant? Toss a crumb to the mumbling beggar? Oh, have mercy, gracious woman! Please tell me that my dignity, my pride, my folly, matter more to you than your rubber duck. Have mercy!"

With this speech, Jack collapsed into a chair and fainted from the verbal exertion and suspense. Kate looked at him a moment, completely stunned. Then she smiled. "Sure, Jack, why not?"

Jack opened an eye slowly, forgetting that he was meant to be unconscious. "Really?" he gasped.

"Yeah," Kate said off-handedly. "I mean, how could I refuse someone who compares me to a camel? I _love _camels!"

"Oh." said Jack. "Right. Awesome...did I really?"

"Yeah, you really did." Kate grinned.

"Hey, that's right," Jack said in awe. "I remember!" At this, the gathered patrons of the restaurant, who had been watching the spectacle from near and far, all started cheering and clapping, though no one really knew why.

"I wonder," I sighed, "if any of us have lives?"

**A/N: **I'm fairly certain that this is the only Lost Chapter which contains obscure references, so rather than do up an appendix I will just list them here: when Jack says "You must allow me to inform you how ardently I admire and love you", he is quoting Mr Darcy from _Pride and Prejudice_. When he mentions the "weak-kneed carrot", "snake-venomed ice cream" and "rubber duck", those are references to a novel my friend wrote. And the bit at the end, starting from "I remember!" and continuing to the final line, is a reference to a different novel written by a different friend. The reason for these pointless in-jokes is because I originally wrote BWoS for my friends, so, y'know, I could do stuff like that.


	6. Another One of Those Days

**Chapter Six – Another One of Those Days**

_Mikael_

It was just another one of those days.

Everything seemed so still, so quiet—but not in a good way, or a peaceful way. More like a dull, dreary sort of way that reminds one of the doldrums. Not that anything particularly _bad _happened (hell, we had walrus-flavoured _ice cream _for lunch, which was rather exciting), but things seemed so flat with Phyra and Kate both gone. The sun seemed a little less bright, the lessons a little more mundane, and life in general somewhat lacklustre, as though all vitality had flickered out like a candle which has burned to its end.

I had known, of course, that things would eventually come to this—or something very _like _this, anyway. Had events been allowed to run their normal course, Kate would have left this year, and Phyra and Jack would have followed her two years after that. I am the youngest of us four, and so I'd have stayed on behind no matter what...

But that would have been different, because it would have been expected. The current state of affairs, with Kate just graduated and shot off to the Northern Arm, and Phyra gone two years early to join the Royal Staryan Army...that was something I'd never envisaged. What would happen now? Would Jack leave too? Would I? Or would we stick around here and be forced to wait until Fate stepped in to change things even further?

"Norwalters." Squadmaster Kor'zhe said sharply. "Pay attention."

"Sorry, sir," I murmured, glancing up from my desk. After that, the rest of the lesson went on smoothly enough...until it was time to go, of course, and I somehow managed to stab Levi Harper with a pencil during a silent argument over the result of a game of 'Hangman'. Levi reckoned that _shmarkled_ wasn't really a word, but I said otherwise. Technically he was right, of course, since shmarkled hadn't at that point been entered into the general lexicon, but it had still been in print, and had a meaning, so I pushed for its legalisation in the laws of hangman, and eventually won out. I had a few qualms about that, but assuaged my conscience by reminding myself that Levi always cheated at 'Do Not Push This Button', so now he'd had a taste of his own foul concoction.

This done, I headed out, leaving Levi cursing and attending to his bruised kneecap. I met up with Jack in the corridor, and together we started off towards the mess hall for dinner. On the way, we bumped unpleasantly into Benjamin and Rianna. Literally.

"Watch where you're going, you multitudinous cretins." Rianna snapped, picking herself up off the floor. "I swear, if I've broken a nail because of you, I'll—"

"How can you call us multitudinous," Jack asked impatiently, standing and dusting himself off, "when there are only two of us? I mean, I agree completely with the cretin part, but multitudinous? Seriously? Get a dictionary and look up the meaning of the word before you decide to go around engaging in sesquipedalian loquaciousness." With that, Jack strode off, and I followed, leaving Rianna and Benjamin standing in our wake, looking more than slightly befuddled.

"I wonder where Nicholas is," I murmured.

"Probably in his room, reading dirty magazines or something." Jack said in studiously bored tones. "Isn't that what all teenage boys are supposed to do?"

"Or," Nicholas's voice came from behind us as we were about to enter the mess, "he's here, waiting to tell _you _two that you're wanted in Master Gyro's office."

We turned and saw Nicholas glowering at us. "Hi, brah," Jack said. "Thanks for the input. We'll rack off now." He grabbed hold of my collar and dragged me off to Gyro's door without delay.

"Why are we in such a rush?" I queried, knocking on the door.

"I didn't want to prolong any unpleasantness." Jack said reasonably. "We get enough of that around here already."

"I'll second that," I said gloomily, right before Squadmaster Gyro answered the door.

"Ah, I've been waiting for you two," said he. "We've got an assignment for you."

"What's that, sir?" Jack asked cheerfully.

"We need you to go up to the northeast sect of the Outer Rim and collect us some of the exotic tea leaves that grow there." Gyro said with unparalleled majesty. "Daenguard and I have just about run out, and neither of us can stand that awful shop-bought rubbish. Do you think you can handle this task?"

"Sounds like a doddle, sir," Jack grinned. "You can definitely count on us."

"Excellent." Gyro beamed. "Good luck to you both—and start quickly, won't you? I haven't had any tea in nearly six hours, and it's beginning to wear on my nerves."

After this, the door was closed, and we began to wend our way down to telepoint station. "Isn't the northeast sect where the four of us went that time?" I asked slowly while we walked. "When Phyra got abducted, and Rebecca betrayed us and all?"

"Yes, but that won't happen again, don't worry." Jack said confidently.

"No, it jolly-well won't." I muttered. As we turned a corner, I saw Nicholas again, watching us with bright, unblinking eyes. An odd sense of terror gripped me for a moment, and I slowed my pace without meaning to. Then the next second, it was gone, and I felt assured again. After all, nothing could go really wrong, could it? No, it most definitely couldn't.

Like I said, it was just another one of those days.


	7. Grimmer Things

**Chapter Seven – Grimmer Things**

_Jack_

_THUD. _"Ow."

I landed on the floor for a third time, and grunted partly with pain, partly with satisfaction. I was clambering to my feet and preparing to sit down on the wheelie chair again, when there was a knock at the door. "Who dares enter my dominion?" I called gaily, settling down onto my bed and mutely informing Dread Ripper that he should get out of my underwear drawer and be ready to receive company. As it turned out, though, the company was not the receivable type. It was Benjamin.

"What do _you_ want?" I snapped, instantly losing whatever amicable appearance I'd previously had.

"Ha," snorted Benjamin. "it ain't _your _business what I want, twerp. At least in a manner of speaking."

"In a manner of speaking?" I repeated. "What _is _this? Some sort of conspiracy or cock-up?"

"What?" Benjamin frowned.

"Why are you of all people calling on me at this time of night?" I clarified. "And what will the neighbours say? Either you're here to involve me in some shady scheme or other, hence conspiracy, or else you've got the wrong room, hence cock-up. So, which is it?"

"Both?" Dread Ripper supplied unhelpfully.

"Neither." Benjamin snarled. "I wanted to challenge you to a brawl."

"Me, huh?" I yawned. "Well, I _do _have better things to do right now, like falling off my wheelie chair, but since you're a bloody great oaf, and since I'd enjoy winning by a landslide as I am sure to, I think I might just humour you."

"Whatever you say, little man." Benjamin laughed, standing to one side and ushering me out the door. "After you."

* * *

A few minutes later, the two of us were standing in the practise arena, ready to begin our battle. "Field—Open!" we cried, opening the Field with our Gates. "Gate Card—Set!" Two small cards zipped out and set themselves, growing instantly larger and flashing in colours of orange and gold.

"Bakugan Brawl!" I yelled, tossing a small, white and gold marble out onto Benjamin's Gate. "Stand, Haos Storm Falconeer!" Up on the card rose a brilliantly glowing birdlike warrior with 510Gs, thunder and lightning issuing from the gauntlets at its wrists.

"Gate Card—Set!" Benjamin retorted, throwing a second Gate out to sit beside his first. "Bakugan Brawl! Stand, Subterra Hornet Striker!" A huge brown hornet materialised in mid-air above Benjamin's new Gate and began to hum dangerously. It had 350G-Power.

"Gate Card—Set!" I called, sending yet another card out beside my original Gate. "Bakugan Brawl! Stand, Haos Mantris!" An enormous white praying mantis with 390Gs scuttled onto my first Gate, and then I pulled out an Ability card. "Double Ability—Activate!" I continued. "Draw, plus Marionette!" One of the Bakugan in Benjamin's clip glowed orange, and was pulled to land on my second Gate Card. It stood to reveal Subterra Laserman, who had 400G-Power. After this, Mantris lassoed Storm Falconeer with his flashing golden ropes and dragged the ornithic monstrosity over to join him on my first Gate. "Gate Card—Open!" I ordered, causing Benjamin to start.

"What do you mean?" he cried angrily. "You can't have your own Bakugan battling each other on your Gate, can you?"

"Oh, that's not what I'm trying to accomplish at present." I smiled. "Void Pull!" The card beneath Mantris and Falconeer glowed, and soon after that, Laserman and Hornet Striker were moved over to join the battle. Shortly after, their Power Levels dropped to zero. "Fusion Ability—Activate!" I added. "Light Barrier! If I have more than one Haos at the battle, you may not play any Ability cards!" Benjamin swore furiously, while between them, Mantris and Falconeer sent the two Subterras packing. I just had Benjamin's guardian to take out, now, and then this battle was finished.

"Bakugan Brawl!" Benjamin growled. "Stand, Subterra Guard Cycloid!" The brown, armoured giant loomed up on my second Gate, which had remained on the Field while my Void Pull card had vanished. "Ability—Activate!" Benjamin went on. "Draw!" Mantris was taken from my clip by unseen forces and deposited on my Gate next to Cycloid. I groaned, remembering that with Cycloid's innate ability, I wouldn't be able to open the card. I decided to wait for a more opportune moment to fight back, and so Mantris was defeated and thrown into ball form.

Then it was my turn. "Bakugan Brawl!" I yelled. "Stand, Haos Storm Falconeer!" The white and gold monster shot up into the air above Benjamin's second Gate Card, and sent lightning crashing derisively across the sky in the shape of a rude hand gesture. Benjamin seemed a little reluctant to throw out his Bakugan, but he did eventually, and Cycloid began to battle fiercely with Falconeer.

Cycloid was 10Gs higher than Falconeer, but even though Benjamin had the power advantage, the difference in Gs was low enough that the battle dragged on for a good while. At length, the card opened automatically and revealed—to Benjamin's dismay—Duck and Win, which he'd evidently been planning previously to use with Hornet Striker, who had quite a low G-Power. Now, of course, this turned things in my favour. But not for long, though.

"Ability—Activate!" Benjamin roared. "Mud Slide!" The Gate was swapped with Benjamin's original car, which he then opened. It turned out to be Surging Strength, which naturally worked far better for Cycloid, who set about pummelling Falconeer into the dust. When this was done, it was my turn.

"Gate Card—Set! Bakugan Brawl!" I shouted. "Stand, Haos Dread Ripper!"

"Don't muck about with me, my enemies," my guardian roared, rising up on my final Gate Card, "for I am the _ultimate sushi chef!_"

"Sushi chef my non-existent wisdom teeth!" Benjamin snapped. "You're just a mediocre comedian with no credibility whatsoever. Bakugan Brawl! Stand, Subterra Guard Cycloid!"

Cycloid appeared for a third time, standing to meet Dread Ripper head-on. Their Power Levels were tied, so I raised a hand and said, "Gate Card—Open! Power Merge!" 100G-Power was transferred from Cycloid to Dread Ripper, and the fight intensified.

"Ability—Activate!" Benjamin shouted. "Subterra Increase! Plus, Fusion Ability—Activate! Magnify!" The ground beneath us turned to stone. Cycloid roared as 300G-Power was added to his Power Level twice, and he seized hold of Dread Ripper and threw the unfortunate Haos to the ground so hard the stone split, sending shards of rock everywhere. One small piece whipped past my face and grazed my forehead, drawing blood, but I didn't heed it.

"Ability—Activate!" I screamed, knowing Benjamin now had nothing left to counter with. "Lightning Switch!" My favourite Ability card took effect, and as lightning rent the sky, light filled the Field and Dread Ripper smote his enemy hard enough to make him reel back and collapse, shattering the stone beneath him even further. All was then done.

* * *

As the Field disintegrated, I put a hand to my forehead nervously. When I took it away again, my palm was smeared with blood. I sighed, then carefully collected my things, making certain not to get blood on any of my Bakugan or cards. While I was putting my gear in my locker, I heard Benjamin speaking to me. "Listen here, you great portentous arse," he snarled. "I've got a message for you, from Kyros."

I started violently at hearing Kyros' name mentioned, but collected myself and managed to ask calmly, "Oh? What does _he _want, then?"

"He wants you and your friends to ensure you _don't _try and win the tournament tomorrow," Benjamin spat. "_Especially _Vyander. If this warning is disregarded, something terrible will happen. See that you tell the others." He then turned on his heel and left, leaving me feeling nothing less than devastated. Standing around in a state of shock would do nothing to aid my comrades, however, so I checked my watch, found it to be dinner time, and set off in the direction of the mess hall.

When I got there, I found that Phyra appeared to be standing up in his seat and addressing the gathered masses in general. In spite of myself, I stopped to listen. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention?" said he. "I have an announcement." He paused expectantly as every head in the room turned to him.

"Well? What's the announcement?" someone called out after a moment.

A sly grin slowly appeared on Phyra's face. "Are you sure you want to hear it?" he asked.

"Yes! Yes! Pray, tell us!" one of the girls spoke up.

"Yeah, come on Phyra! Do tell!" another boy chimed in.

"Are you _quite _sure?" he cajoled.

"YES!" several people said.

"_Reeeally_ quite _quite _certainly sure?" he prompted.

"YES! _YES!_" everyone screamed.

"Are you—" Phyra began.

"FOR FATE'S BLOODY BREAKFAST'S SAKE, PHYRA! _TELL US!_" the crowd roared.

Phyra gave a wide grin. "Okay," he yawned. "Here's the announcement..." Their expectant faces lit up as he drew himself together for a dramatic announcement. "I'm bored." he announced.

As an overwhelming chorus of groans rent the air, I made my way over towards Phyra's table, where Kate, Mikael and Rebecca were face-palming. On another occasion, I would have been laughing my arse off, but not today. Today, grimmer things were afoot.


	8. On Fire

**Chapter Eight – On Fire**

_Random Bystander_

I stand—or bystand—alone. My name, my identity, my life is a mystery. I have no purpose save to observe the purposes of others. I have no duty to perform save to monitor others performing their duties. No one pays me any heed, but I pay them more heed than they can ever know.

I am the random bystander, and this is the tale of what I saw today.

* * *

It was about mid-morning, on a Saturday. The weather was quite fine for that time of year, and the sun shone down through a cloudless sky upon a long, grassy stretch of land situated in one of the many pleasant little nooks of Wardington. A great number of children congregated in this long, grassy stretch of land most days, to play games and sports, to talk and generally mingle, and today was no exception. But even while I stood there, gazing over at these masses of children like a stalker, one individual in particular caught my eye.

He was a boy, perhaps six or seven years old, with wild brown hair and eyes like the colour of burgundy. He wasn't bothering to join in with any of the groups around him, but pelting down the road instead, whipping past the park and disappearing into a thicket of nearby trees.

Curious in spite of myself, I decided to do what no other random bystander had done before, and cease my random bystanding long enough to follow the boy and see where he was off to. Taking a few hesitant steps forward, I began to do just that, gradually becoming faster as I got used to the sensation of doing something other than bystanding randomly.

It didn't take too long to catch up with the boy. I found him sitting cross-legged between two shrubs, holding an object in his hand. It was a box of matches.

"Here!" I exclaimed, voice croaking slightly in recognition of the fact that I hadn't spoken a word for about five years. "What are you doing with those?"

The boy looked up at me, showing no signs of fear or guilt, and said with a cheeky grin, "I'm gonna set my clothes on fire. What's it to you, mister?"

"Well, why on earth would you do _that?_" I queried, exceedingly puzzled by this startling declaration.

"Because," the boy said with infinite wisdom, "it'll make _me _the best touch-football player on the team." He gestured towards the long-sleeved red jacket and red trousers he was wearing. "No one would want to tag me while _these _babies are burning all around me, so if I get the ball, my team will win for sure!"

"Doesn't that seem a bit much for a game?" I pointed out gently.

"Not to me," the boy said emphatically. "Winning, no matter how much power you need, is the way to do things. That's how you keep yourself going. Besides, flaming clothes would look undoubtedly hot, if you'll excuse the pun."

"It might," I retorted. "But it might also be, well, extremely painful. I believe unfeignedly that you'll regret your actions the moment you blow out the match." The boy considered this for a moment, but I could see that he wasn't entirely convinced. "If you'll allow me to give you a tip," said I, "I think you'd do well to try and win the game with strategy, not power. Fire and invincibility are all well and good, but they won't do your bidding for long. Strategy, however, will be your servant for as long as you are its master, and the better you treat it, the better it will serve you. Do you see?"

"I s'pose." the boy muttered.

"In that case," I said, restraining a sigh of relief, "perhaps you'll let me have the matches, and go off and win your game, cool as the most logical of cucumbers."

"I guess I could do that..." the boy murmured, looking down at the matches he held with a thoughtful expression. Then he looked back up and grinned widely. "I'll try it." He tossed me the matches and then took off running again. I watched him go, glad to have prevented his being admitted into some hospital ward for severe burns. Then a thought occurred to me. "Oh, one other thing," I called.

"Yeah?" he called back without stopping.

"What's your name?" I said with a smile. "I'll be keeping an eye and an ear open for when you're lauded as a famous sports star."

"I'm Danny," came the faint reply. "But you can just call me Dan."


	9. Looking Back

**Chapter Nine – Looking Back**

_Kate_

I stood there, fuming, and watched Phyra walk jauntily over to the bar. Who did he think he _was_, inviting me to a promenade and then strutting off to get inebriated before the first dance had even begun? I suppose he thought he was one awesome guy with one awesome hairstyle, and this gave him the right to do whatever he wanted.

In the meantime, I wasn't feeling particularly inclined towards a drink at that point, so I wandered off to see if I could meet up with someone a little better at social intercourse than my current company. My current company by this time happened to be a flock of imported flamingos from some place in the Western Arm, who had been brought in for live decoration. They were now clustered around me and fixing their beady little eyes on my stomach, as though they wanted to eat my liver. It's not that I don't have any affinity towards birds, but I'm just not as good with connecting to nature as some people are.

So off I went, eyes roving around the crowded ballroom, in which a large number of couples were assembling for the first dance. By and by, Roximor became ensconced in someone's empty champagne glass, absently muttering his lines of poetry to himself, and Nova met up with some Ninjitsu Monarus and began whirling around in time to the music with her. A relatively lively waltz had begun to play by this stage, and was sounding rather enticing. I was just starting to wish I had someone to dance with, when a disappointingly familiar voice spoke out from behind me.

"Hey, beautiful. What's a pretty young thing like you doing without a partner, then?" I turned and found, as I'd expected, that the one speaking was none other than Captain Trap Hackett.

"Oh, hi, Trap." I murmured, doing my best to smile. "Fancy meeting you here."

"I should say so, sweetheart," Hackett purred, twirling around so that I could see his classy black tuxedo (over which he wore his usual less-than-classy lab coat) from all angles. "I should say so." I couldn't quite think what to say to this, so I just smiled politely and waited for him to continue. He didn't waste any further time in cutting to the chase. "Sooo, uh...wanna dance, gorgeous?" he said smoothly, inching perceptively closer as he did.

I wasted even less time in replying. "No thanks," I said sweetly. "Catch you later." I then turned and left him looking quite dejected. I was sorry to have turned him down, of course, but I'd seen Trap dance before, when he thought I wasn't looking, and it was definitely not pretty. Though this was appropriate, since Trap himself was not an especially pretty person, or even endearing. I watched while he went sadly off to join Phyra at the bar, and as the sound of low, warbling sea shanties began to rise between them, I decided to take a quick turn around the room, in case I bumped into anyone I actually _wanted _to speak with. If not, I'd collect Roximor from his champagne glass and call it a night.

My efforts were pretty soon paid off. I was just passing the refreshments stall (and glowering at the cakes there), when a young man who looked perhaps a couple of years older than myself stepped into my path and gave me a charming smile which was not annoying in the least. "Hi there," said he. "It's Sergeant Newbell, isn't it?"

"Kate, please," I smiled back. "How did you know?"

"I've been stalking you." he said matter-of-factly, at which I stared at him and took a carefully measured step backwards. "Oh, it's nothing to worry about," he laughed, hastening to reassure me. "I just meant that from the moment I laid eyes on you—during one of the earlier battles, I think it was—I thought to myself, _she needs someone looking out for her_, so I decided to do just that."

"Right." I said amiably, though inside I was wondering how sober this man was.

"I've been keeping tabs on you," he warbled on, "because even though I'd never met you, I_ cared_ about you. I'd have gone to Vestroia with you if I could have, but sadly I'm not in ABU, so there went _that _little scheme." He gave a rueful grin, then held out a hand suddenly. "How rude of me." he apologised. "You don't even know my _name_ yet."

"No," I laughed nervously. "No, I don't."

"I'm Lieutenant Valentine Bircham," he said sweetly, shaking my hand. "But you can call me Val."

"Great!" I replied, not sure what else to say. "Nice to meet you, Val."

"You have lovely hands," he mused, not letting go of my fingertips immediately. "I should totally teach you how to do origami. It's a little hobby of mine."

"Sounds nice." I said graciously.

"Not surprising," chuckled Val. "I am, after all, a really nice person."

"I'll take your word for it." I replied agreeably.

"Dance with me?" he grinned.

"Why not?" I giggled, throwing caution to the winds. And just like that, off we went.

Val told me all about the work he did, the missions he'd undertaken, the origami shapes he'd made, the eccentric employers he'd had, the many suitors he'd turned down, and the pet alligators named Ed he'd owned. I told him all about my times at the BBS, the time I'd tried to be a lemon, the interesting conversations I'd had with General Harp Darp soon after being admitted into the army, and all the trials and tribulations Phyra and I had undergone with the Bakugan in Vestroia.

At this point, I glanced over towards Phyra and noticed that he appeared to be dancing shirtless on top of the bar. And here I'd always though he had a kind of wild dignity about him...but then again, he was insane, so maybe not.

The evening wore on, and many laughs were had, many dances were danced, and much hilarity was enjoyed by all, or _almost_ all. Perhaps not General Harp Darp, when someone overturned his half-finished glass of whiskey onto some rich old lady's lapdog, and the lapdog flew into a rage and bit the worthy general in several aggravating places. Nevertheless, it was a splendid evening, and I left Valentine that night with promises to do origami together sometime.

Roximor and Nova joined me, and the three of us taxied over to my flat for the night, leaving Phyra to stew in his oncoming hangover. Chocolate was consumed by the block, and we watched several highly entertaining movies. Looking back on that night, I think it was one of the best times I ever had.


	10. Your Rotten Luck

**Chapter Ten – Your Rotten Luck**

_Kyros_

I sat carelessly down on a chair and began to flip through the magazine I held. Nothing very interesting caught my eye, but then again, modern entertainment being what it is, I wasn't very surprised. Eventually I tossed the thing aside with a sigh and made a mental note to try and find some nice, tragically romantic films from the video shop next time I was feeling bored. At least I'd be guaranteed to get a few laughs out of them.

I was lounging in one of the many sitting rooms in my palladium, awaiting a message from the Chief Sektarus. He was later than he'd said he'd be, and as the phone on the table nearby remained silent, I began to grow agitated. Small wonder it was, then, that when a bat swooped down from the slanted ceiling and screeched at me, I jumped nearly a foot into the air. And screamed.

As the sound of my yell receded gradually into quietness again, I turned, holding a hand over my beating heart and saw Nicholas standing in the door. "You, er, wanted me?" he murmured.

"Yes," I snapped, annoyed that he'd obviously just witnessed my embarrassing moment. "Get this atrocity out of here, before I take sudden leave of my senses. _Honestly_, I swear I'm going to kill that rotten evil-palace-decorating counsellor..." While I pointed viciously at the bat, which was currently destroying my favourite armchair, I let slip enough mutterings to fabricate an excuse for its presence—though in fact I regret to say that it had been _my _idea to get in some bats. They lend so very much to the ambiance of the whole lair set-up, you know. But, as I'd discovered, they're not really worth it.

Meanwhile, Nicholas nodded tersely, and went to remove the bat. It screeched something awful, and lacerated his face a great deal with its claws when he grabbed it, but eventually it was subdued and unceremoniously tossed into a bin somewhere. I smiled to myself at this, then told Nicholas irritably to go and fetch me some coffee. "I thought you didn't like coffee?" Nicholas objected.

"Well, get me some anyway," I snarled. "I need a drink of some sort, and I believe that rotten Benjamin has done away with all my teabags. Remind me to slap him with the OED later."

"Alright, but I've got to oversee that abduction operation, like you said yesterday." said Nicholas. "Can Rianna or someone get you the coffee instead?"

"Fine." I said curtly. "Just get _on _and leave me be. Why, oh _why_ can I never get a moment's peace around here?"

Nicholas paused in the doorway, then looked over his shoulder at me, an unusually devious smirk on his face. "Well, you know what they say," he said simply. "_No rest for the wicked._" Then he was gone.

Before I could call him back and yell at him, the phone rang at last. "Kyros." I said tensely, picking the receiver up at once.

"_Obviousssly." _the Chief Sektarus's voice hissed drily on the other end.

"What took you so long?" I growled. "I've been waiting for, like..." I checked my watch. "Ten whole minutes!"

"_Your watch isss wrong." _the Chief Sektarus rasped coldly. _"I'm no fool, boy. I know how busssy your ssschedule isss."_

"That's heartening." I said sarcastically. "So, what did you want to say?"

"_How'sss our plan coming on?" _he asked.

"Swimmingly," I answered. "I know where to find the last Pyrus Bakugan. Now it's just a matter of...collecting him. I've just given the orders for some hostages to be taken. The Pyrus's Brawler won't have any choice but to exchange his Bakugan for the Staryan filth I'm about to capture."

"_What makesss you ssso certain?" _the Sektarus queried.

I grinned broadly, calling an image of Phyra Vyander to my mind. "My intuition tells me so." I replied briefly.

"_Excellent. When you've got the Pyrusss, bring it to me without delay. We'll sssoon have the Sssupreme Darknesss out of hisss prissson."_

"That we will." I agreed. "But listen—I wanted to ask you something. What exactly do we plan on _doing_ once we've decimated the Staryan masses? I mean, we'll have Shadowsector all to ourselves again, but then what? We've lived with the legends of Twattar and Cayuuntash long enough. Are we to find a more peaceful sort of existence once our enemies have been removed, or are we just to keep making new enemies and gradually take over the universe? That's generally how it's done, if I recall correctly."

"_We'll crosss that bridge when we come to it, Kyroah'rhasss." _the Chief Sektarus said gently. _"Let usss jussst focusss on the tasssk ahead for the presssent."_

"Fair enough." I conceded. "Cheers, buddy. Talk later." I hung up, then noticed for the first time that I wasn't alone. Rianna had entered the room with a cup of coffee and evidently heard enough of what I was saying to realise the truth. Benjamin was there too, holding a live duck in his arms which was stamped and apparently addressed to me, and from the look of shock on his face, it seemed he had also overheard my side of the conversation and cottoned on. "Oh, damn." I cursed under my breath.

"There's a...duck for you, Kyros." Benjamin muttered, not meeting my eye. "It came...in the post this morning, and I just thought I'd, you know, pop up and..."

"And listen in to my private conversation." I finished quietly, fixing him with the evillest of eyes I possessed at that moment (i.e., my left one).

"You never told us not to come in here, conversation or no conversation." Rianna grunted, shoving the coffee at me. "If you don't want us to discover your treacherous plans, then _don't _ask us to bring you crap while you're on the phone." She nudged Benjamin, and the two of them made to leave.

"Where are you going?" I queried sharply.

"None of your business," Rianna spat, glaring back at me. "We _quit_, Kyros. We always knew you were no good, but a genocidal maniac, with or without addictive chocolates and body-building courses, is absolutely not going to employ the likes of us."

"You think so?" I inquired dangerously.

"I know so, and so does Benjamin." Rianna said vehemently. "And what's more, we're going to tell everyone else in this rotten old joint about your true allegiances. You're on your own now."

"I don't think so." I chuckled, not taking my eyes away from hers for a moment. "You see, I don't really _like_ employees who abandon ship at a moment's notice. In fact, I hate them. It's so inconvenient having to minimise the damage, rebalance the budget, find replacements and so on."

While I'd been speaking, Rianna and Benjamin has stayed stock still, as though mesmerised. They hadn't noticed that I'd been inching closer towards them with every word I uttered. "So?" Rianna growled, clearly wanting to leave, but finding herself unable to do so. "That's _your _rotten luck."

"Oh no, my dear, stupid young friend," I contradicted ever so softly. "It's _yours_." Without warning, I sprang into Sektarus form with a roar. The two Staryans quailed beneath my gaze, and Rianna let out a shrill, piercing scream. But she still couldn't seem to move, and it took less than a second for me to lunge violently at her and rip her throat open. As she crumpled and hit the ground, pale and lifeless, and blood began spilling everywhere, I turned on Benjamin, who yelped and tried to fend me off with the duck he was still holding. A moment later, both he and the unfortunate fowl lay beside Rianna in just the same condition as she.

I looked long and hard at the corpses for a minute, then calmed myself and switched back to Staryan form with the help of my optical scrambler device, a gadget we Sektarii had been using for countless decades to get the better of the hapless Staryans. I checked my reflection in the spirits cabinet to make sure I looked suave as always, then exited the room.

While I was walking through the passage, I passed Rebecca, who cast me a nervous glance, then went off in the direction I'd come. As I neared the far end of the corridor, I heard a muffled scream. And I grinned to myself.


	11. Hint of a Smile

**Chapter Eleven – Hint of a Smile**

_Rebecca_

"What will Rebecca and Preyas do while Nova and I are in the World of Tests, though?" Phyra asked.

"Oh, that's simple," smiled Lars Lion. "We'll all have some nice, refreshing cups of tea and scones, and gabfest a bit on assorted unimportant matters."

"Sounds fun," Phyra said. "Well, any time you're ready, go ahead and send us off to—" Before he'd finished speaking, a beam of bright red light suddenly enclosed him and Nova within itself and shot the two of them up into the air.

"Wheeee!" giggled Exedra. "I love watching that bit."

"Won't they get hurt when they come down?" I asked anxiously.

"Fribbet. Bleep. Thwack!" Preyas said in disgust.

"He speaks the truth, young lady," Oberus said wisely. "Or at least I think he does. Technically I can't understand him, but anyway. The point is that no, Phyra and Novaakii won't be hurt."

"Unless of course Novaakii forgets to land properly," Apollonir put in helpfully. "In which case they will probably be maimed for life."

"Oh yeah, of course," Oberus said reminiscently. "Silly me. Well, I doubt Novaakii's_ that_ stupid, anyway."

"You'd be surprised." Apollonir muttered.

I gulped. "No need to fret, child," Lars Lion interjected calmly. "I generally find that a nice cup of tea and some scones helps to steady my nerves when I'm feeling stressed. I'll get you some now."

"Perhaps we ought to go and sit out in the parlour," Clayf suggested.

"Excellent proposition, my dear fellow," Apollonir approved. "Come on, everyone." He led the rest of us to another clearing in which a stone table happened to be sitting, all laid out with tea and scones a-plenty.

"Botheration," Lars Lion clucked. "We seem to have forgotten to eat breakfast."

"Never mind, my dear," Frosche said mildly. "Now we don't have to set the table for afternoon tea!"

"True," Lars Lion admitted. "Very true indeed. Have a scone, Rebecca?"

"Why do you pronounce it that way?" I asked curiously, accepting a plate of scones.

"Because it makes more _sense_, child." Lars Lion said impatiently. "I mean, it's _spelt _as though it should rhyme with _bone_, so I pronounce it thus. Is that a crime? Besides which," she added with a blush, "one of the loveliest men I ever heard of pronounced it that way, you know..." As Lars Lion continued, going all misty-eyed, the other Soldiers exchanged glances and grumbled about foolish old ladies, meanwhile helping themselves to tea and scones. The conversation continued for some length of time, transitioning from topic to topic as it went, smooth as your granddad's pick-up lines. Before too long, however, there came the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Phyra? Nova?" I called eagerly, twisting around on my stone stool. "Are you there?"

"KABOOM? Blam blam?" Preyas added hopefully.

The Legendary Soldiers looked in the direction of the footfalls, and we all waited in heightening anticipation, until into the clearing walked...Dual Hydranoid and Platinum Centipoid. "_You _guys?" I said in astonishment. "You're alive?"

"Just barely, I'm afraid," Hydranoid grunted, approaching us with an air of infinite weariness. "We've been wandering around this accursed wasteland for Eve knows how long, not so much as a bite to eat, or a drop of water, or a nice, relaxing bath, or a pretty woman to— Well, anyway, it's no wonder we were drawn thus far by that heavenly fragrance rising from your teapot..." He finished on an unusually lively note.

"Why, you must come and join us in that case!" Oberus exclaimed, at which the other Legendary Soldiers all nodded vigorously.

"We were hoping you'd say that," Hydranoid grinned, plonking himself down next to me and gratefully taking the cup of tea Frosche passed him. The discourse continued leisurely on after that, the topics flitting on faster and faster, eventually arriving at nuts.

It was as Clayf was telling us how he hated cashews that there was a noise over at the edge of the clearing, and Phyra and Nova arrived. "Hi everyone," Phyra said, walking over with the great Pyrus dragon in tow. "What's up?"

"Nothing much," I said, swallowing a mouthful of scone. "You're all better, then?"

"Yeah," Phyra smiled. "Turns out that World of Tests was rather...surprising. How, by the way, did you find Hydranoid and Centipoid?"

"We didn't," I said off-handedly. "They just rocked up a little while after you left."

"Nothing draws one in like that _tantalising _tea smell." Hydranoid added. I agreed, and things began to progress after this. Apollonir pointed Nova in the direction he needed to go, and Phyra and I followed, leaving the others still stuffing their faces. We followed what looked like a road of fire for quite some time, and eventually found ourselves in the midst of a large group of Pyrus Bakugan. Phyra and I left Nova here at this point, and we went off walking together, talking about this and that.

I told Phyra that I'd helped him and the other boys escape from Kyroah'rhas, the day Siege died. The topic in general was a painful one to unearth, but I felt better after getting it out of my system completely, and I was glad to let Phyra know I hadn't ever really been set against him.

At length we began to hear what sounded oddly like a susurrus of trickling whispers. This turned out to be Electro Cybertallion telling Thunder Skyress poetry, which was rather weird. After this, we eventually met up with Nova again, who told us that the Infinity and Silent Cores were positioned in the centre of the dimension. After that, there was a lot of touch-and-go, and some tricky business with a certain bunch of Nonets, followed by a mystical conversation with none other than Genesis Dragonoid, and an evolution for Nova, who was blessed with a magnificent six-pack among other physical virtues.

Things got back on track in their own good time, though. We were ready to leave, Apollonir had taught Nova to create a dimensional portal with his new abilities, and we were all fired up for the upcoming battle with Darcell and the Sektarii. It was as we were about to leave, however, that we encountered a most tragic and unexpected stumbling block.

"The eternal demise of _all _Bakugan, Novaakii." Apollonir said quietly, fixing Nova with a solemn eye. "Except for you. Even the _pigeons_ cannot escape the Doom Energy's clutches forever."

I felt my jaw drop. Preyas and the others would have to stay here, meeting a fate worse than death through no fault of their own? Where was the justice in that? My eyes filled with tears as I looked up at Preyas, who had been for a long time the only friend I'd known, during those dark, dismal days spent in Kyroah'rhas's _palladium_ after I'd left the Squad. I made no effort to brush them away. I just stood and stared, unable to think what to say. Funnily enough, Preyas had never spoken two words of sense together, and yet I'd oft felt as though I could understand what he was saying—as indeed he spoke now. "BONG-BOOM." said he, looking back at me with those big, red reptilian eyes of his. "Tink tink tink...tinkle!"

I didn't know what he was getting at...but I thought I caught just a hint of it. He wanted me to go, though it would be a wrench to leave him. He wanted me to do my bit in ridding Starsector and Vestroia of the threat that assailed them. I understood this, and I did my best to convey that to him, silently.

"He's right," said Oberus gently, as though she were guessing my thoughts. "Don't look so sad, little one. Someday, we Soldiers hope to regain the larger part of our former powers once we've sat here and rested long enough, recharging our cells. If we ever manage this, we will be certain to use our powers to try and release as many Bakugan from here as possible."

"We'll be okay," Hydranoid added, and Centipoid agreed. I nodded, and somehow managed the hint of a smile. I just hoped they were right.


	12. An Intersection

**Chapter Twelve – An Intersection**

_Darcell_

I sought the path to immortality. I sought it, I found it, I walked it. I had followed it for as long as I could remember, trying not to think of the pain I'd caused, or the pain I'd suffered. So where did it all go wrong? In some ways, it was all very wrong from the beginning—and yet, I sometimes think that it took a definite turn for the worse at a certain point, an intersection between two lines, two paths of Fate.

And when I picture this, my mind returns inevitably back to that day in Vestroia, when everything went horribly, cataclysmically wrong.

* * *

I glided silently through the aether, searching endlessly for the one they called the Guard. Soundless currents of windless, timeless air surged beneath my stomach, seeking a destination that didn't exist. Everything was still, everything was peaceful, recuperating after the terrible damage I had inflicted on the dimension. But that was all about to change, and not for the better.

Before too long, a long, low, mournful wail travelled past my ears, calling endlessly to a thrice-named group who no longer inhabited Inner Space.. _"Elaquaresii... Elahparii... Elugarii... Elinahii... Eliruii... Elirbagii... Dixie... Sausage... Pumpkin... Paschal... Spot... Alfred... Brothers... Sisters... Guards of the Cores... Come find me... Come aid me... Your brother... Elahcimii... Ferdinand... Guard of the Cores..."_

My ears pricked up, and I paused in the abysmal emptiness, listening hard. The cries were repeated over and over, perpetually hailing the six brothers and sisters who were unable to hear them. I knew, then, that I had found who I was looking for, and so I pushed on, following the voice through the thin, flat space around me. At last, I happened across the caller, a glittering, pure white pigeon who ceased his tumultuous singing when he laid eyes on me, the darkened dragon, cursed by Dharaknoid himself.

"Yerp." said the pigeon, cocking its head.

"What?" I asked.

"Yerp yerp!" the pigeon twittered happily, at which point I decided I was dealing with a half-wit, and made a move to speed things up.

"I challenge you to a battle," I snarled, fixing both my sets of eyes upon him. "I want your power."

"Yerp?" said the pigeon again.

"You are Ferdinand, Guard of the Cores," I went on. "I want the cores, and so the guard must be dispatched. Do you understand?"

"Yerp." said Ferdinand, narrowing his beady little eyes at me.

"Very well," I said, flicking the tip of my left tail in anticipation. "Let us do battle...Ferdinand."

"YERP!" screeched Ferdinand, enveloping me suddenly with light. Temporarily blinded, I uttered a furious oath and backtracked a bit. Then I blasted the wretched pigeon with darkness, cancelling out his manoeuvre in a moment.

I shot forward and attempted to snap him up in my jaws, but quick as lightning he veered out of the way and countered with an icy jet of negative energy, which siphoned off the bulk of my strength before you could say _Cephalochordata_ and then attempt to define it. I retaliated by lashing out with my two tails and knocking him off-balance, then butting him with my right head and lengthening the distance between us to some great degree, giving me a moment to rest. Having recovered a little from Ferdinand's last attack, I followed through with another great blast of dark energy, then waited a moment, assessing the situation.

Ferdinand picked himself up slowly, and used the Infinity Core's positive energy to recharge himself, so to speak. Then he sprang at me, burning with power, and began to attack me with intense and highly disturbing ornithic vigour. So the fight dragged on, neither of us gaining the upper-hand for very long, and both of us gradually becoming wearier and wearier. The battle had to end at some point, but as to when that would be? That was uncertain. Until I finally worked out what I needed to do to win, however. Then it was a cinch.

I just had to use my Darkus Shutdown ability, which would prevent Ferdinand from accessing his own powers as well as increasing mine. Ferdinand might have had the power of the Infinity and Silent Cores behind him, but cut him off from these and what was he? A mere pigeon, small and frail. So that is exactly what I did, breathing out a dark misty substance which dulled Ferdinand's white glow and forced upon him the appearance of an ordinary grey pigeon.

I felt my power increase, and I darted forward and struck the bird a vicious blow to the head with my tails. Two further swipes of my powerful claws, and Ferdinand gave an odd sort of scream and fell still. I grunted with exertion and satisfaction, and seared him to charred fragments with a wash of black fire, to ensure that he really was dead. Then I stilled myself and waited, feeling an unusual sensation pervading my body.

At first I didn't know what could be wrong. Then moments later, a fearful, burning tingling coursed through my limbs, and I realised what was happening. I recognised the feeling, for of course I had felt it before. I was evolving.

Uncountable beams of purple light extended forth from my flesh, and I felt my body changing. It took only a minute or so all up, I imagine, but it seemed to stretch out for years. When all was finally over, I found myself in possession of a third head, third tail, and three sets of wings. My stature was no longer that of a quadruped, but a biped. I was an Alpha Hydranoid.

I let out a great rush of breath, then turned my heads slowly to look behind me. I could sense the cores nearby, hear them calling to me. I set off again, listening for a second time to the voice of the unknown, which was guiding me further along the path I had been set.

* * *

Some hours later, I finally stood before the twin orbs of light and darkness, gold and silver, creation and destruction. Infinity and Silence, the cores of Vestroia. Their emanating power issuing forth to embrace me was like music in the ears of a man who has ceased to be deaf, or like the sight of endless, staggering plains full of flowers on a spring day, surveyed by a man who has been cured of blindness. It was intoxicating in its splendour, and I knew it could only get better from there. I reared back my three heads and gave a great, echoing cry. "DARK TRANSFER!" I roared.

Several long, narrow rays of darkness sprang from within my triple-maw, and pierced the dual surfaces of the cores simultaneously. I could feel the power seeping out of the cores at an even greater rate, rushing forwards to greet me. If I could have, I would have smiled at that moment, such a smile as has never before been beheld by mortal eyes. And then everything changed. The power stopped. The song ended. The essence of existence itself began to crack.

I gasped, and the ray of darkness died down to nothing. The cores were vibrating, getting more and more violent and unstable by the second. Vestroia was shattering, and a great, fiery void was tearing itself into being right through the centre of Inner Space, and the cores were releasing a great tangled web of balanced energy which was making its way towards me.

And I just stayed where I was, aghast at the devastation I had wrought and unleashed on the worlds through my folly. _Genesis and Dharaknoid forgive me, _I thought wildly, while the energy net came closer. _What in Eve's name have I done?_


	13. Not Least, Myself

**Chapter Thirteen – Not Least, Myself**

_Phyra_

"Dude, that hair is amazing." the officer gaped, staring at me like a lovestruck cow.

"Isn't it just?" I agreed amicably.

"No, seriously, dude, you need to get a permit for that," the officer said excitably. "There's no way hair like that should be chopped off by some cold-blooded army barber."

"Can you do that?" I inquired interestedly.

"Sure thing," he grinned. "I'll get Captain Cockup onto it."

"Captain _Cockup?_" I echoed, at which the officer chuckled.

"Don't worry," said he. "The good captain's never made a cock-up in his life. Bit ironic, that."

"Whatever you say," I replied. "So what's your name, then?"

"Lieutenant Hackett." he smiled. "Yours?"

"Acting-Corporal Vyander." I answered.

"Ahh..." said Hackett. "So _you're_ the child genius."

"If that's how you want to put it," I said carelessly, "then feel free. But tell me—what am I doing here?"

"The answer to that depends on what you mean by the question," Hackett replied. "Are you asking what you're alive for, or why you've joined the army, or why you're standing in this building, talking to me?"

"The last." I said with a charming-but-annoying smile. "I already know the answer to the second, and I don't think _anyone _ever knows the answer to the first."

"You'd be surprised." Hackett said mysteriously. "Anyway, this building happens to be the training quarters, and you're here to impress me with your brawling aptitude."

"I thought you were with the scientists?" I said, puzzled. "So why are you testing new recruits like me?"

"I'm a man of many talents, Corporal." Hackett smirked. "I get around a bit, do some of this and the other. The ladies love that in a guy, you know."

"I can imagine," I said politely. "So, when do we begin?"

"Whenever you're ready," Hackett answered, producing a Gate Card from his pocket.

"In that case, we'll start now." I returned, doing the same.

"Field—Open!" we said together. "Gate Card—Set!" I threw out my card, and Hackett did the same. Mine flashed purple, his flashed orange. Then we were ready to begin.

"Bakugan Brawl!" yelled Hackett. "Stand, Subterra Electro Cybertallion!" He made a sharp, calculated movement with his wrist and sent a small brown sphere hurtling onto his Gate. It rose up into a huge brown robot crackling with electric sparks, who had 630G-Power.

"Bakugan Brawl!" I replied. "Stand, Darkus Pythonoid!" Hardly had I spoken when a massive black snake slithered up out of a black portal on my Gate Card and hissed angrily at the distant Cybertallion. It had 400Gs.

"Gate Card—Set!" Hackett cried. "Bakugan Brawl! Stand, Subterra Alternate Mantris!" Two separate events took place at these words, the first of which being that another orange Gate Card flew out to sit beside Hackett's first, and the second of which being that a blazing, neon orange phantom-outline of an insect glided into being on my card, confronting Pythonoid with a formidable 650Gs.

"Gate Card—Open!" I shouted. "Shadow Swap!" The Power Levels switched, and Pythonoid gained an additional 100Gs afterwards, so that I now led by 350G-Power.

"Ability—Activate!" Hackett countered. "Mud Slide!" The Gate Card was switched out with Hackett's empty card, and while it was too late for the Shadow Swap effect to be cancelled, Hackett could now turn things around with the new Gate—which of course, he did. "Gate Card—Open!" said he. "Stone Swap!"

_Darn. _I cursed inwardly. _Clever bastard. With the accumulated effect of the two Gates, that puts him in front by 450Gs. _"Ability—Activate!" I retaliated. "Black Hole!"

300G-Power was taken from Alternate Mantris and bestowed upon Pythonoid. However, this didn't seem to bother Hackett very much. "Fusion Ability—Activate!" he grinned. "Mirror of Stone! My Bakugan's Attribute is changed to that of one of its opponents." He paused, while Alternate Mantris took on the traditional Darkus hue, then added, "Ability—Activate! Dark Alternate Force! This card brings an enemy Bakugan from an opponent's clip to any card on the Field. This Bakugan's Power Level is halved, and Alternate Mantris gains G-Power equal to the amount it lost!"

I gaped as a Darkus Flash Cybertallion was dragged from my clip to meet Electro Cybertallion on Hackett's other card. He started out with 420Gs, then was brought down to 210, while Alternate Mantris gained that much and sent Pythonoid packing—with a punch. The Gate disappeared, and then we went immediately to the next battle. "Character Card—Open!" Hackett commanded. "Cybertallion!" This was an interesting move. It doubled the Power Levels of both Bakugan, of course, but while Flash Cybertallion just went back to 420Gs, Electro Cybertallion jumped to a mighty 1260Gs—exactly three times the amount his opponent had. I could do nothing but stand and watch dejectedly as I lost a second Bakugan.

"You know, Corporal," Hackett mused, catching Electro Cybertallion as that worthy returned to ball form and zipped into his Brawler's hand, "I'd have thought, being our new resident prodigy and all, you'd be a little harder to beat at your own game."

"You haven't given me time to warm up yet, Lieutenant." I retorted, forcing a chuckle. "Just wait until you meet my guardian. Gate Card—Set!" A new card zipped onto the Field floor, this time shining red as it landed next to the opened Shadow Swap Gate. "Bakugan Brawl!" I continued. "Stand, Pyrus Delta Dragonoid!" Nova arose on my Gate Card, roaring a challenge. He'd evolved since I'd first found him, of course, and now had 570G-Power.

"Bakugan Brawl!" Hackett returned. "Stand, Subterra Electro Cybertallion!" The enormous brown android morphed into life once again, and loomed menacingly over Nova, who spread his wings and shot up into the sky, away from harm's reach.

"Gate Card—Open!" I shouted. "Mirror Brawl! Ability—Activate! Water Manipulation!" The Gate beneath the two Bakugan flashed white, and as the text etched onto it took effect, Nova's skin changed to a deep blue colour, and Cybertallion's to a bright green. Then Water Manipulation followed through and transferred 300G-Power from Hackett's Power Level to mine. Hackett cursed, not having any counters that would work with a Ventus Bakugan, and Nova swept Cybertallion off the card with a great rush of icy water.

"Gate Card—Set!" roared Hackett. "Bakugan Brawl! Stand, Subterra Alternate Mantris!" The insectile phantasm appeared above Hackett's Gate and checked, awaiting an opponent. Now was the time to give him one.

"Bakugan Brawl!" I yelled. "Stand, Pyrus Delta Dragonoid!" Once again, Nova rose up in a flurry of flames and roared.

"Gate Card—Open!" Hackett ordered, making a gesture. "Surging Strength!"

_A mistake if I ever saw one. _I thought to myself with satisfaction, as Alternate Mantris gained enough G-Power to bump him up to an impressive 1050Gs. _You should have used Stand Off and blocked my Abilities. As it is, I now have an opening—and so thereby must use it if I'm to win this battle. _"Ability—Activate!" I screamed. "Knife of Fire!" Nova snarled fiercely and sent a huge wash of fire out to meet Alternate Mantris. The ethereal creature's Power Level was halved, sinking to 525Gs—and Nova gained the same amount. Alternate Mantris was then the next to go, and we were tied at last. "Gate Card—Set!" I cried, tossing my last card out onto the Field.

Hackett didn't have any cards left, so he was forced to choose between throwing his final Bakugan onto my stationary Shadow Swap card, and my unopened card. Like a sensible man, he of course chose Shadow Swap, which was now useless. "Bakugan Brawl!" he shouted. "Stand, Subterra Razor Hynoid!" A gargantuan brown wolf-man stood up on the card and bayed rather stupidly at a moon which was absent. It had 670G-Power.

"Bakugan Brawl!" I said with a smirk. I knew I had Hackett where I wanted him now. Nova, without further ado, was dispatched to my unset Gate Card—causing Hackett to start slightly. Naturally he wondered what I was doing. I soon cleared up any doubt, however, by raising my hand and crying, "Gate Card—Open! Void Pull!"

Hackett let out a kind of strangled groan while Razor Hynoid was brought over to face Nova, his Power Level drained to nothing. I just grinned, inviting him to counter. He did so by raising his last Ability Card and yelling, "Ability—Activate! Tremor Switch!"

The Power Levels swapped. I smiled beatifically and brought out my own final card. "Fusion Ability—Activate!" I announced. "Delta Demilitarise! This is a special card, unique to Delta Dragonoid, which can be used at any time. It cancels the effect of your Ability card, and adds 200G-Power to Delta Dragonoid!"

Hackett paled, and, while Nova dismissed Hynoid without a reference (save for a torrent of scorching flames), stammered something about an odd frogling. Hynoid collapsed to the ground, Nova flew back to me, the Gate disappeared and the Field vanished. I found suddenly that I'd been as tense as an anthropomorphic balloon about to crash into a needle-filled haystack, and let out a rush of breath. "So," I said after a moment. "Did I succeed in my endeavour to impress you, Lieutenant?"

Hackett stopped gawking for a moment, then smiled slowly. "Yes, I think you did, Corporal." he said warmly, shaking my hand. "Congratulations. I'll be interested to see how well you do here."

"Thank you," I smiled back. "I hope I'll live up to everyone's expectations, not least my own."

That is what I said at the time of course, and nowadays, I sometimes look back and wonder at how prophetic it seems in hindsight. But perhaps there is no point in such musings. I wasn't to know back then, after all, just how far I would _exceed _the expectations of so many. And certainly not least, myself.


	14. Military Intelligence

**Chapter Fourteen – Military Intelligence**

_Kate_

"Well, _this _looks like it's going to be easy." Captain Trap grumbled sarcastically. I ignored his grousing and stared over at the Sektarii encampment ahead of us. It didn't seem to be guarded much, so eventually Trap and I got out of our vehicle (leaving Rox behind to ward off potential car-thieves with his eccentricities) and headed cautiously off to see if we could enter the place. It didn't take much—just a knock on the door, a _Can we come in? We're collecting for charity_, and a fist to the face of the Sektarus who let us in. After that, we split up and began to look around for information we could take back to General Harp Darp.

A great number of bright yellow folders were uncovered, bearing the inscription _USEFUL INTELLIGENCE. IT'S STRICTLY CONFIDENTIAL, SO KEEP OUT, STUPID._ I grabbed as many of these as I could carry, and presently met up again with Trap, who had done the same. We took a quick peek at a couple of these, to check that they were what we needed, and to our collective dismay, Trap soon unearthed a memo which noted that the Not-So-Royal Sektarus Army would be attacking the Central Octagon by way of the Northwest Arm. "We'd better run this stuff up to Harp Darp fast," he muttered to me, once we'd assessed the situation.

"I was just thinking that." I answered, tucking my share of the papers under my arm. "Let's go."

We'd already familiarised ourselves with the route we needed to take to exit the camp, so this we did with minimal bother and little delay. Unless you count the point where Trap had to walk past an alluring safe full of dirty magazines, of course. There was a slight delay there, which resulted in my dumping him (even though we weren't technically together, which, now that I come to think about it, doesn't really make sense). But we soon got through that, and made amends shortly after. Then it was just a quick trip through the stark, rustic wilderness of the Outer Rim, and we'd be in the car and heading off.

Before this happy event could take place, however, we ran into a bit of a complication, in the form of Jack and Mikael, who popped unexpectedly out from behind a boulder and hailed us. Mikael was clutching yet another armful of files, and Jack was carrying a teapot. "What's up, guys?" he said, feigning cheerfulness even though he was plainly peeved at the sight of Trap and I working together without his supervision. "We've just been nicking some military intelligence. It looks as though you've been doing much the same. Is that correct?"

"Sure is, buddy." Trap grinned, totally oblivious to Jack's hostility. "We're taking it off to our general now."

"Good show," approved Cynfael, who had been sitting and chatting amiably to Kefira. "We were just about to have some tea. Won't you join us?"

"Why not?" I agreed, and so we sat down and had tea. As we were well into our fifth round of earl grey, Jack lent me one of his files, and it was revealed most regrettably that the siege on the Central Octagon was scheduled for the next day.

"Cheesecakes!" Trap cursed. "We'd better hurry and get out of here before they get the drop on us!"

"Do you boys want to come with us?" I asked Jack and Mikael. "We can run you up to our headquarters if you like. General Har—Hiroshai, I mean, might want to look at the documents you've got."

"Fine by us," Jack said, obviously pleased at the idea of being able to prevent Trap from making a move on me during our return journey. I nodded, and we trekked back to the car, where Roximor was bopping his head enthusiastically to the beat of a foreign news report. No sooner had we begun to climb in, however, when we were rudely interrupted by some twenty Sektarii or so.

"Well, _this_ will be fun." I said drily, priming my blaster.

"Right you are, my dear." Trap agreed, causing Jack to bristle. "Here." He handed me a couple of small metal spheres. "Remember my Summoner Drone? Well, he's back today with some friends for you to brawl with. Their names are Ventus Sorcerer Drone and Aquos Warlock Drone."

I took these with a word of thanks, then moved a hand down to my BakuPod and flicked on the field generator switch. A massive, multicoloured bubble sprang forth out of my generator and wrapped itself around us and the Sektarii, causing those latter fellows to pause uncertainly in their advance. We Staryans seized our opportunity and launched our Bakugan into the air with cries of "Bakugan Brawl!". Moments later, Roximor, Cynfael, Kefira, Summoner Drone, Sorcerer Drone and Warlock Drone rose up out of their ball forms and began to tear through the enemy forces with a terrifying ardour.

Initially, the fight was rather exciting. Roximor beat his wings and unleashed massive gusts of wind out at the Sektarii, violently invoking the name of the Rune as he did so. Cynfael blinded his enemies with light before slashing brutally out at them with his six sets of massive claws. Kefira, shining softly like moonlight, summoned the rays from the setting sun above us and bent them into a sharp, bright, highly concentrated beam of energy which she shot out at our foes, incinerating several of them on the spot.

Summoner Drone brought up several stone dragons and golems and petrified unicorns and other I-don't-know-whats from the ground beneath us, which rained blows down upon the Sektarii in torrents. Sorcerer Drone called up various elemental spells to ravage and destroy as he pleased. Warlock Drone laid waste to the order and form of our assailants with his massive sword, and pronounced dark, ominous curses (most of which involved kittens) on everyone and everything he chose.

With such forces as these hacking away at the enemy numbers, and Trap and I blasting away at any stragglers with our guns, it didn't take too long before the Sektarii were all dead or dying, and our path was clear. We got into the car and set off at last. "I _told _you," Trap said smugly while we cruised along, "that this would be easy."

I just rolled my eyes and kept driving.


	15. Where Did It All Begin?

**Chapter Fifteen – Where Did It All Begin?**

_Dual Hydranoid, Leader of the Netheros Clan_

It's all so twisted, so distorted. I don't think I can get my mind around it much longer. Here I am, in the ancient, decaying wasteland of the Doom Dimension, sitting and wondering how it all happened. Feeling pensive, I've started to scratch this all down on a rock, hoping that perhaps my thoughts will make some sense all written out—set literally in stone, you might say.

So where did it all begin? I suppose it began, in a sense, when I was born. But then, nothing particularly interesting happened to me throughout my childhood, so I needn't go into that here. Perhaps it began when I became the leader of my clan, the Netheros. I took the position over from my father, an unusually quiet sort of Hydranoid, who almost never battled. I, by stark comparison, was in those days a loud, arrogant sort of Bakugan, who ruled with the traditional iron fist rather than persuasive speech or love and compassion and all that _hippie crap_, as I'd graciously dubbed it.

But for all that, I was a good leader, so I hope, and a strong fighter. I was challenged several times for my position, but on all occasions I duelled and defeated the challenger with ease. I led the Netheros for some several decades, and things were alright..until our clan began to dwindle. This was due in part to the rift, and in part to the Cyan Ones. Terrible times those were, and I began then to despair, to believe that the Netheros would never rise again, and it would be all my fault.

But then again, perhaps that wasn't quite where my life began to slip away from my control. Perhaps it was after that, around the time I was taken hostage by the one they called Kyroah'rhas. I'd been wounded in battle, and was unable to defend myself when he came, masquerading as a Staryan. He was armed and reeking of _eau de cologne_, which seemed a little strange. I couldn't resist him, and so when he shut off the nearby field generators, I was trapped within my sphere form and picked up by the detestable fellow, who then headed off to some teleportation device hidden nearby and warped the both of us over to what he called—if I remember correctly—his _palladium_.

Unimaginable horrors filled that _palladium_. Disgusting lace doilies, windows in ridiculous places, meat lockers full of frozen cows and all sorts of other things lurked about. The place was eerily quiet, since I gathered most of the Staryan staff who had worked there had been dismissed after some breakout years ago, and Kyroah'rhas had spent so much money on refurbishments that he didn't have enough left to hire replacements.

Then there was the torture inflicted on so many. I've no idea how many victims Kyroah'rhas had tormented over the years, but if one was to believe even half the stories he told as we walked down through the lower-level of his _palladium_, one would assume that there had been a great many. Two unfortunate Haos Bakugan—a Dread Ripper and a Harpus—were being beaten into submission even as I was brought into a rather unpleasant cell, lined with dyed pink monkey skins.

I was locked into a kind of restraining chamber and made to wait while my fate was decided. When it came, it was more terrible—and more wonderful—than I could have believed. The forbidden card, Chaos Ability X, was used upon me. It hurt, burned, mutilated me both physically and mentally beyond all thought. But it caused me to evolve, and my destructive powers were greatly increased, and so perhaps it was a mixed blessing.

Or maybe things began when my mind was taken over by Kyroah'rhas, and I was forced to serve him, to assist him in his wicked deeds. I do not remember much of that time, save that I seem to recall fighting a great beast of fire and shadow... But it's all so dark, so irretrievable. I cannot recollect any of the fight for more than a second or two. But afterwards—oh, Great Genesis, what a shock! To be freed from my mental slavery, only to be cast down into the Doom Dimension when I had done no great wrong to anyone, well, who could withstand such cruel fortune? Not I, it seems.

My mind has become so...fragmented. Even now, my thoughts are sliding out of my reach again, and everything is turning black. My body is decaying, my strength fading away, and I can't seem to think why... I thought I saw—but, oh, I remember being abandoned. There was something about Novaakii. Novaakii and his companions—they left me here to wither away so long ago, so very long ago... I can't seem to get my head around anything. Everything seems so dismally surreal. What is happening? I can't think...

It's all so twisted, so distorted. I don't think I can get my mind around it much longer. Here I am, in the ancient, decaying wasteland of the Doom Dimension, sitting and wondering how it all happened. Feeling pensive, I've started to scratch this all down on a rock, hoping that perhaps my thoughts will make some sense all written out—set literally in stone, you might say.

So where did it all begin?


	16. Like a Vice

**Chapter Sixteen – Like a Vice**

_Rebecca_

My BakuPod beeped, and I started, realising that I'd obviously been missed back at the Squad, and now someone had been sent to look for me. "I'd better go," I told Kyros. "Otherwise there might be trouble."

"Suit yourself," he shrugged, not looking up from the game of Solitaire he was playing. "Don't do anything stupid, though." _I already have, _I thought miserably, but of course I didn't bother telling that to Kyros. I went down to the telepoint station and exited the _palladium_ several minutes later. It was as I was walking down the side of one of the mountains that I bumped into Squadmaster Kor'zhe and a couple of the senior cadets.

"Fletcher!" Kor'zhe exclaimed. "Where on Starsector have you _been?_"

"Oh...out and about, sir." I said lamely. "I suppose I must have got lost."

"Well, uh...right. Good show, then. At least we've found you." Kor'zhe said vaguely. "Come along, then." And so off we went. On the way back to the Squad, I found myself going over all that had happened. I'd betrayed Phyra, and caused him—indirectly, at least—to lose his guardian Bakugan. I'd handed his Pyrus Ability card over to Kyros, even though I wasn't yet sure why he _needed _to find the last Pyrus Bakugan. I'd arranged things so Jack and Mikael could rescue Phyra, of course—and I was glad to be out of the _palladium_ before Kyros found out—but it didn't seem as though I'd done enough. I'd been too late.

My mind had been so tangled up since the day of the tournament, when I'd been burdened with the knowledge that if Phyra won, he would die. I'd tried my best to defeat him, of course, to ensure this wouldn't come to pass. But it hadn't worked, even though I'd focused my mind wholly on winning, so much so that I hadn't reacted at all when he'd mistakenly used a Darkus Hornet Striker to fight me with.

I'd been distracted—in fact, I was _still _distracted. Could I rebel against Kyros? Try to stop him, to prevent him from fulfilling his mad scheme, whatever it was? No, of course I couldn't. Kyros was too powerful, his hold over me too strong. There was nothing I could do except to stew in the misfortunes I had authored for myself, letting my guilt eat away at me from the inside until I finally keeled over and died from the agonising despair that gripped me like a vice. I had no future, save for ruining the futures of others. I had no past I could look upon without feeling worse than ever. I had only the present, and all I could do was to make the most of it. Without meaning to, I began to cry silently.


	17. Inner Soliloquy

**Chapter Seventeen – Inner Soliloquy**

_Mikael_

I'm dying. I can feel it. I'm lying on a hard, rocky surface, waiting while blood seeps out of my wounds, and my vision goes dark and blurry. I was caught in a blast and dashed against a rotting building. Now I'm on the road, and I can't seem to move, and I'm dying. But I don't feel sad, or afraid. I'm not sure why, but I don't—I just feel sort of...calm. And hungry.

When did I last eat? I could really go for some brownies right now... What sort of sensation _is _this? Whoever heard of a Staryan craving chocolate on their death bed? Seriously? I can't work it out, unless it's just loss of blood bringing on some sort of delirium. Either way, there aren't any brownies around here, so just shut up, mind. Shut up and stop thinking about brownies. It's not helping. Brownies. STOP IT! GAH! BROWNIES! BROWNIES! ARGH! JUST SHUT UP ABOUT...what?

What was I saying? Huh, I can't remember. Anyway...where was I? Oh, that's right, I'm dying. I'd call for help, but my voice box isn't doing what I want it to do. I can't speak, I can't shift position, I can't do anything except think. Well, perhaps I'd better think, then, while I still can. But what about? Nicholas, my brother, perhaps. I'll be seeing him soon. Where did we go wrong? How did the quarrel start?

_Mikael..._

Shut up, whoever you are. I'm trying to think. Oh yes... When Nicholas and I were off to the Bakugan Brawler Squad, having talked it over with our parents for a while, I knew there was something on Nicholas's mind. I couldn't possibly think what it might be, but there was something there all the same. He was so moody, so distant. When I tried to ask him about it, he brushed me angrily aside, and so we began to drift apart.

_Mikael, can you hear me?_

Shut _up_, I said! The remainder of my life is short enough as it is without silly voices wasting my time. Just go away and leave me to my inner soliloquy.

Well, then. So as Nicholas began to spend more and more time away from me, I began to wonder whether there wasn't some sinister element behind his sudden need for solitude. I was worried, and this didn't really help my academic performance. The general situation was a bleak one, and I didn't have anyone who could help me. My parents wouldn't understand, and I had no friends.

I was never good at making friends. That was why Nicholas was important to me. We were stuck with each other from birth, so it was either get along or be miserable until we were old enough to move out. Being sensible, we'd selected the first option by unspoken agreement. Yes, we had our ups and downs as everyone does, but really, we were happy enough being twins. Or that's what _I'd _thought, anyway, but it looked at this point as though I was wrong.

_Mikael! Speak to me, if you can hear me!_

Look, how many times do I have to tell you to _SHUT UP!? _Honestly, there's this lovely little thing known as R.I.P. I'd like some of that, if you'll kindly shove off and leave me alone.

I thought, of course, that Nicholas would get through whatever it was that was bothering him, and then things would get better. But they only got worse. I was introduced to that lousy Kyros, who later turned out to be Kyroah'rhas, a Sektarus. I met Benjamin and Rianna, who eventually ended up as dead as the rest of us. What is this mortality that lingers around our group? Why did we all have to end up like this? I suppose Fate only knows...but it seems jolly unfair if you ask me.

Anyway, from then on, I wanted nothing more to do with my brother. But oh, _then _he wanted me back, didn't he? He came after me, knowing I was avoiding him, and we had words. Horrible, vicious, cruel words. I can't even remember what I said to him that day, but it was terrible, and I'll never forget the look on his face as I said it. I was paid out for this by Master Gyro, of course, but at the time I guess I thought it was worth it. It wasn't, though. Not really...

_Mikael! It's me, Kate! _

Kate?

_Didn't I say it was Kate? Stop your delusional ranting and try and move yourself! I can help you, but I need you to help yourself. Can you open your eyes?_

Kate...but...what? Can you hear me?

_Of course I can! You're conscious enough to speak more or less coherently. But that won't last much longer unless we can get you to a medic. I repeat, can you open your eyes?_

But...but how much did you hear?

_All of it, but this isn't the time, Mikael. HEY! TRAP! Come and help me get Mikael out of—_

It's okay, Kate.

_What?_

Leave me alone. I'm gone. You can't do anything to save me.

_But...of...of course we can!_

I don't want you to.

_Huh?_

You heard me, Kate. I'm going now. Give them all my best wishes—and tell Kefira not to miss me too much. Goodbye.

_Mikael, you're nuts! You can't just give up the ghost like that! Mikael? MIKAEL? Trap, where are you?_

_Here, sweetheart, what's up?_

_Help me get him out of...oh crap. Can you feel a pulse?_

_...Not any more, Kate. I'm sorry. He's gone._


	18. Vengeance Will Be Mine

**Chapter Eighteen – Vengeance Will Be Mine**

_Anthropomorphic Mind-Reading Sector-Dwelling Beetle Named Jimbob_

Today I saw something very strange. It was just another evening in Shadowsector. I was perched on a rock, eating Sector-dwelling rabbit dandruff and watching the distant Sektarii rebuild their world around them.

The hours passed slowly by, and midnight was on the approach. The eerie, dark grey moon of the Sector rose slowly into the dark night sky and shone softly, casting dark shadows upon the stark, barren terrain that formed the floor of Shadowsector. The Sektarii all retreated gradually to their homes, and either went to sleep or collapsed on their sofas, watching television and drinking beer.

I decided I'd had enough of rabbit dandruff and went off to go and explore a little. So I spread my wings and flew off, making my way down to the cities under construction. I didn't see anything very interesting here, apart from a couple of captivating female moths who were out and about even at this late hour. I stopped to chat with them, but a subtle inspection of their minds told me that they were rather shallow, and so I headed off again.

I rambled all over Shadowsector that night, feeling wide awake and energetic after my meal—for rabbit dandruff contains a great deal of caffeine and carbohydrates, as all knowledgeable beetles know—and so it was that I eventually came to the centre of the dimension. It was here that I saw what I did, and oh, how odd it was!

I was just flying over a particularly dull stretch of rocks when an alien thought happened to drift into my head. My mind-reading powers are very advanced, even for a charming, handsome beetle like myself, and so I occasionally pick up signals from nearby consciousnesses without meaning to.

_They'll regret it all once I get out of here... _the thought read.

"What?" I murmured.

_Just as soon as I get free, I'll kill them all. I'll have justice, no matter how long it takes..._

I paused in my flight, and landed on a nearby boulder, wondering whose mind I was brushing up against. "Hello, out there!" I shouted at the top of my tiny, insectile lungs. "Can you hear me?"

They_ might forget...but I'll remember..._

"OI! I CAN HEAR WHOEVER THAT IS!" I hollered. "I CAN READ YOUR MIND! WHERE ARE YOU?"

There was a pause, then a muffled voice replied to me. _"Down here."_ it said gruffly.

I looked down and I saw, beneath the boulder I saw sitting on, a single, clawed, twitching finger. A Sektarus finger. Not knowing what else to say, I asked stupidly, "Shouldn't you be dead?"

The voice chuckled wryly. _"Perhapsss I should be," _it admitted. _"But the fact remainsss that I am not."_

"How long have you been trapped under there?" I said.

"_I've lossst track of time, I'm afraid." _the voice answered. _"But that doesssn't matter. I've been digging myssself out of here for the longessst time. It'sss been awkward, difficult, but I'm nearly there. I'll be out sssoon, and then vengeance WILL be mine."_

"Vengeance for what?" I wondered, my curiosity aroused by this strange character.

"_For the overturning of my plansss!" _the voice snarled. _"For the downfall of my hopesss, the usssurpation of my leadership, the murder of my lord and my kindred, the triumph of my enemiesss and the dessstruction of my health! That'sss what."_

I whistled. "Who did all that to you, then?" I questioned.

"_Him." _the voice spat. _"Him with the emerald eyesss, the hair of gold and the charming-but-annoying sssmile. Him with the lassst of the Pyrusss Bakugan."_

"You sound like you're in love with him, describing him thus." I observed mildly.

"_I'd sssooner fall in love with my mother." _the voice replied vehemently. _"Anyway, if you haven't noticed, thisss isss a very sssore topic with me. I'd appreciate it if you ssstopped quessstioning me and went away ssso I can get on with my essscape."_

"Fair enough." I muttered, and took off again. _Whoever this _him_ is, with the green eyes, the blonde hair, the charming-but-annoying smile and the Pyrus Bakugan, _I thought vaguely as I whizzed back to my little hole in the ground, _he'd better look after himself._


End file.
